Scars
by thefrenchlyon
Summary: "Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?"- John Keats. Post-GOF. OCs, Geopolitical battles, ICW complications, and steadily developing Harry. Pairing undecided (Not Harry/Ginny or Harry/Hermione). No Slash. No Harem.
1. Intentions

**A/N: Round 2! And here we go, please leave reviews, preferably not of the flame type.**

**Disclaimer: Do we actually have to even put this? Naturally Harry Potter is not mine...**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Intentions**

Sitting in his office in early July, Minister Fudge was rather torn. On one hand his smear campaign against Dumbledore and Harry Potter and been working rather brilliantly. He had even done a little jig of delight last week when Dumbledore had been striped of his title as Chief Mugwump of the ICW in their July session.

"Only a month and already the world is turning on Dumbledore!" Fudge thought gleefully.

His replacement, however, was not acting how the Supreme Mugwump in Fudge's utopic dream world would. The influential German Hans Muller had been elected in Dumbledore's stead, and while Fudge did not have any particular problems with him _per se_, Muller's strong sense of justice had brought an unfortunate issue to play that Fudge would have much rather ignored: Sirius Black.

As Muller's first action in office was to press for greater international cooperation in capturing dangerous criminals by creating a binding bounty system where ICW cleared agents could work across borders to, as Muller had but it, "capture ze darkest end moost heinous criminals".

Fudge thought this was all well and good but was not particularly happy that Muller had decided to make Sirius Black his poster child case by offering a massive 2,500,000-galleon award for his capture.

"Thank Merlin I have control of the Prophet' Fudge thought 'or this would have been terrible press like the World Cup all over again"

Fudge let out a long sigh and lay back in his chair.

"Can't have everything in life I suppose."

* * *

Lockleap was sitting in his office in Gringotts Cairo as the official ICW missive he had been waiting for came through. The ICW was using Gringotts as the intermediary for the bounty hunters, as Gringotts already had the required logistics set up. Gringotts goblins were quite happy about the profits these new arrangements with the ICW would earn, they would be keeping retainer fees and charging fees on the bounties. Lockleap opened up the missive and read the official contract that would be sent out to the bounty hunters, or 'Independent Hit Wizards' as they generally liked to be known.

_The International Confederation of Wizards officially issues a warrant on July 8__th__ 1995 for the capture of the heinous criminal responsible for betraying the British Ancient and Noble House of Potter to Lord Voldemort circa October 31__st__, 1981 and the murder of a number of muggles in London on November 1__st__ in the same year. _

_The criminal's full name is Sirius Orion Black. He escaped the British prison of Azkaban through unknown dark means. A recent picture has been attached. Little is known about his whereabouts, all that is known is he is extremely unstable and dangerous. _

_The capturer of the perpetrator of above stated crimes will be rewarded with 2,500,000 galleons (before Gringotts fees) and given ICW priority access to future bounties. Fifty percent of the prize will be deducted if brought in dead rather than alive. _

_By accepting this contract you will be given access to all ICW member nations (for full list see article 7, section II of the ICW charter) without visa and registration requirements using the attached magical badge and authority to operate under ICW laws in said member nations. Additionally the badge will give you access to all files needed and clearance to interview anyone that may potentially help your case so long as covered in Article 42 section IX parts A-G of the ICW legal charter. Attached is further legal information for your further reading explaining your jurisdiction, limitations,, and responsibilities. Also included are guidelines on turning in the criminal should you capture him and how to collect your reward. _

_Herr Herbert Muller_

_Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, Senior advisor in _the_ German Ministry of Magic _

As Lockleap perused the letter he thought deeply about the files on potential bounty hunters he had read. As the test case in a possibly highly profitable venture, Lockleap has great responsibility in choosing whom to send the contract out to. As one of the Managing Directors of Gringotts Cairo Lockleap had great experience with a number of what most ICW representatives would term "unsavory" characters, ranging from professional Creature Hunters, Cursebreakers, and general hired muscle. He realized that the contract recipients must be chosen carefully, these contracts bestowed quite a bit of power and if the silly humans who received them managed to bollocks things up by abusing their power Gringotts would probably lose the contract. This would lead to Gringotts management having Lockleap's head for losing such a profitable venture, and Lockleap did not mean this figuratively. Gringotts management was particularly violent when it came to loss of profit.

Lockleap rolled his tongue as he looked through the files of the prospective contractors. Specifically one file; he had already settled on ten men and women, mostly ex-law enforcement types with a few Creature Hunters and a Cursebreaker thrown in, who had some prior experience with bounty hunting before.

The last file he was considering was the one that troubled him. This one had a much shorter record than most others he was considering, but it was a rather spectacular record in creature hunting, bounty hunting, and even some cursebreaking. Further digging as to why the files record was so short had shown a rather surprising fact that was the only reason Lockleap had not already confirmed the prospect as a recipient.

Lockleap flipped through a number of papers and came upon a short but strongly worded recommendation for the prospect from a Gringotts manager in New Delhi.

"Good enough for me, then."

Lockleap thought as he slowly put the file with the other 10 he had already decided on.

"Besides, his age is be plenty old enough for work, humans coddle their young too much." Lockleap contemplated as he prepared to send out the contracts.

* * *

Miles away, at Privet Drive, Surrey, a certain teenager was laying on his bed in the smallest bedroom of a very common two story home. Harry Potter had just finished showing after another day of gardening and housework and was popping the blisters on his hands with a needle he had nicked from the Dursley's bathroom. Harry Potter was also quite cranky. Now most teenage boys would be quite cranky after having done fairly difficult chores and gardening work non-stop for weeks. Harry was not like most teenage boys; rather he probably was nearly nothing like _any_ other teenage boy. For one, he was actually enjoying the mundane work being forced upon him. It was keeping his mind off a number of inconvenient facts, like how he had witnessed a schoolmate murdered in front of him, been apart of a dark ritual to revive his parents murderer, and now said murderer was undoubtedly after him.

"I just get to sit here, with no information from the outside world, while a raving lunatic is after me. Thanks Dumbledore." Harry growled softly before rolling over.

"And for good measure my "friends" haven't even written me."

Harry popped up from his bed and stretched his back, shaking his head trying to clear his thoughts.

"I wonder what the look on Vernon and Petunia's face would be if I went down and asked for more work," Harry thought to himself. "Then again, considering how much work I've been doing I doubt there is any left I could do."

With a frustrated groan Harry fell backwards back onto his bed, no idea just how the innocent wording of a certain document would cause some major shifts in his life.

* * *

Deep in the jungles of the Congo, a Gringotts Transfer Box hummed with magic as it delivered its contents. Or it hummed to the only occupant of the tent, who was one of very few who would actually be able to tell you that the box had hummed. That sort of magical perception, while not unheard of, was still rare. The occupant looked at the box with eyes that swirled with brown, hazel, blue and grey. Ignoring the box and slipping on his boots and he finished off his preparations by slipping on his wand holsters and grabbing his two sheathed swords that were leaning against a chair. There was work to be done now. He silently slipped out of the tent into the darkness beyond.

Chapter 2: Moonlit Hunting

Slipping out of the tent, the man strode silently towards a few men congregated on the outskirts of the village. No one noticed his presence until he was only a few yards away, when the shortest member of the four-person group looked up.

"Still trying to scare the daylights out of us Xander? Well, too bad because we are finally getting used to your damn stealth. How you do it I haven't the faintest but would have loved those skills in my school days to peak on the birds in the locker rooms." Said the man jovially.

"Mind keeping that brain off the birds tonight, Jim?" said Xander, purposefully ignoring the rest of Jim's rant.

Jim Mytreus was a rather loud South African in his late 30s who stood about medium height with a barrel chest. He was also rather good at his job, which was why he was here tonight. Xander then turned the three others in the group.

"Anwar, Bekele, Dakarai, are we ready?" The three African tribesmen nodded in affirmation.

"Yes _Andikan_" one of them, Bekele, replied in his native tongue.

Xander grinned to himself at the name the African tribesman referred to him by, which means "conqueror" in Bantu. Xander was not really sure just how he had picked up the name, trying to figure out what exact action had led to three of the strongest hunters in the local magical tribe to name him so. Maybe it was the fact he had beaten them all in a friendly spar a few weeks prior.

Xander smiled, "They had that beating coming, I may be young but still no reason to be underestimated," he thought.

_Xander _wasn't even his name either. Alexander Joseph Brennus was the odd combination of symbols that formed his name, or at least he was reasonable confident it was. Certain circumstances of his past meant he wasn't _completely _certain, but he was close enough. "Xander" was the name he used in Creature Hunting circles, and was a reasonable derivation of his full name that he did not feel odd responding to it.

Refocusing on the task at hand, Xander followed Jim as they headed into the Congolese jungle.

"Eyes and ears open chaps, let's make it back home to camp safe and sound one last time" Jim growled out. Jim's demeanor had changed from jovial to dead serious as soon as they entered the jungle. The dangers in the jungle were great, and they had already had a number of narrow escapes.

"Circe help us if we run into a Nundu," Xander thought as he softly followed behind Jim, keeping his senses on alert. Anwar was currently taking the lead, trying to find a sign of the beasts they hunted, while Bekele and Dakarai followed at the back of the party.

The jungle at night was a trying place on the senses. There was no silence, rather a steady cascade of small noises that constantly made the party flinch and spin around. Wind rushing through trees, small animals moving through bushes, and trickling water were just a few of the numerous sounds that surrounded the party as they moved through the foliage. After 45 minutes of traveling deeper and deeper into the jungle, Xander felt a prickle upon his senses and froze, turning to his right. The rest of the party, respecting immediately stopped as well.

"Got something? What direc..." Jim hissed until he was cut off by Xander's raised hand.

Jim then signaled Anwar back silently. Xander motioned towards Bekele and Dakarai to follow. Jim was an excellent Creature Hunter, but the experience Bekele and Dakarai had at moving silently through the jungle would serve them much better here. Xander drew his wand and unsheathed one of his swords, an ancient looking gladius style sword covered in runes. The trio moved across a few fallen trees, through a pair of ferns, and finally crawled upon a large boulder about 30 feet from where they split off from Jim and Anwar. From their perch they could see, in a small clearing, what they had been looking for: Tebo.

The group quickly reconvened.

"How many?" Jim quickly asked, seeing the look on Xander, Bekele, and Dakarai's faces.

"Eight, five males, three females…males are massive, at least the size of an Ox," Xander quickly responded.

Jim and Anwar both paled. Tebo were not quite in the league of dragons, nundu, or basiliks, but they were still some of the most dangerous creatures to hunt. Giant warthogs with razor sharp tusks, their hides were tough and spell resistant. To top it off, they could magically make themselves nearly invisible. In the local tribes it was considered an honor if two hunters themselves took down a single full grown Tebo.

"The danger is great _Andikan_…very very great," murmured Bekele.

"We are only two away from our contract quota, and we still have six days…" Jim said quickly.

Xander was barely listening, however, as he was already formulating a plan

"Oh Merlin, I know that look, we are going after the buggers aren't we," moaned Jim.

"We'll take a vote as always, but I have a plan." Xander said quickly. "More of a general idea…but they don't need to know that," he added to himself.

"Explain." Anwar replied quietly.

"Well, how's everyone's transfiguration?"

* * *

The group was loosely spread around the clearing, surrounding the small pack of Tebo. The Tebo were so far unaware of the group's presence; a few had taken to lying down while the rest were grazing. Xander's plan was simple; at Jim's signal (he had the best view from atop the boulder) they would transfigure walls around the Tebo, trapping them in.

Xander adjusted his wand and took a deep breath, calming his thoughts. A clear owl hoot streaked through the night and Xander began quickly muttering under his breath and swishing his wand. A 20-foot tall wall quickly formed out of the soil and mud at the edge of the clearing. Once completed, Xander transfigured the wall into solid granite for good measure. Xander's skill bordered upon what some would call prodigious; the entire process took less than five seconds.

Xander quickly peered around. Though the rest of the group's transfigurations were not of the same caliber of his, they would do the job

"Show off," muttered Jim as he joined Xander, clutching his knees and gasping for breath. "Thorough" Xander replied quietly. Jim had also made an earthen wall, about 15 feet high and reinforced with a few logs he had integrated to prevent its collapse.

The pair then walked over to Anwar and Dakurai. The pair were gassed and on their knees but grinning madly. They had combined efforts to transfigure the last portion of the wall, changing the grasses of the clearing into massive wood posts and growing them to be 25 feet tall. It was an impressive display of magic, but clearly both were spent.

"What are you two smiling so much about," barked Jim.

"Capturing eight Tebo a great honor for our tribe," responded Anwar, "We shall be celebrated for days when we returned," he finished as Dakarai nodded beside him. He then shifted his gaze across the clearing and waved.

Xander and Jim turned and saw Bekele jogging, practically skipping, towards them, oblivious to his surroundings. He had been on lookout duty during while the others focused on their casting. Suddenly he stumbled, and a piercing scream cut through the jungle night.

"Shit!" Xander cursed as he began sprinting over to Bekele, Jim following close behind.

"Careful, let's not get ourselves taken by whatever got him" Jim called out from behind.

They closed the gap in seconds only to find a frightening sight. Bekele was on the ground, clutching his a leg, eyes wide in terror. Across from him a massive 18 foot long Ashwinder was rearing and hissing, preparing for another strike.

Jim froze in fear, muttering, "Oh Merlin and mother of all that is magical," before letting out a stream of curses that would have made the drunkest sailor blush.

Xander never stopped moving. With fluid movement he quickly drew the Japanese katana on his back with his right hand and slashed it in unison with the wand in his left.

Most wizarding cultures had long abandoned swords and other weapons for solely using wands. The old War Arts that combined magic and sword had descended into a thing of myth and legend. They were difficult to master, and as magic had advanced and new spells had been created they had become obsolete. Nevertheless, there were some instances, Xander knew, where the War Arts were unmatched. Sheer cutting power was one of them.

The cutting spell connected with the enormous snake mid-hiss, slicing it cleanly in half lengthwise. The spell did not stop, however, and cut through a dozen small plants and a rotten stump before finally hitting a thick tree, leaving a long deep gash along its trunk.

"Circe! That must have gone 30 yards. Never seen something like…never even heard of a cutting spell like that for Merlin's sake!" Jim exclaimed as he stared in awe.

Jim and Xander quickly hurried over to Bekele. Anwar and Dakarai, who both became very pale when they saw Bekele, soon joined them. "Damn!" Xander cursed.

Bekele was barely holding onto consciousness. He had been bitten just above the ankle and the wound licked with magical fire from the Ashwinder venom. A charred skin was steadily spreading up his leg.

"We need to cut it," Jim said grimly. "Fast."

"Stun him," replied Xander, who then turned towards Anwar and Dakarai and explained what they were about to do.

Xander sheathed his Japanese sword and switched it for the ancient gladius. Jim straightened Bekele's leg.

"Sword looks a bit dull…simple spellwork might be better here," said Jim with a questioning look. "See the runes? Makes it so the sword can only be messed with by really powerful magic. Hoping it will help against the venom." Xander replied. Jim nodded and bent Bekele's other leg back so it wouldn't be in the way.

"You cut, I'll be ready to close it up," Jim said gruffly. Jim had picked up some Healing skills from a brother who worked in a magical hospital in Johannesburg. Xander lifted the sword, and aimed carefully, then nodded to Jim. The blade came down quickly, shearing the leg off just below the knee in spurt of blood. Jim worked quickly to staunch the bleeding and seal the wound.

"Bugger!" Jim exclaimed, sweat pouring down his forehead. "I'm not skilled enough for this and if we don't get it closed soon he's a goner."

At that moment Anwar managed to snap out of his trance and pulled out a bottle filled with a dark green mud-like substance. "Good for wounds, made of jungle plants," he stammered before rushing over and unceremoniously dumping it all on Bekele's stump.

There was a tense moment before they saw that the bleeding had all but stopped. The wound was a raw, angry red as Jim went over and looked at it. 'Must be sort of like Dittany.' Xander thought to himself.

"No sign of any poison left, I think we made it or at least he's stable enough." Jim sighed in relief.

"Still need to get him to a Healer." Xander said. Ashwinder venom was not stuff you messed around with.

"Aye he should be fine though. I'll Apparate him back to the village and find the Healer." Jim replied. "Think you three can take care of the Tebo?" The trio nodded, in the rush they had nearly forgotten the Tebo that were penned in only a dozen feet away. "Then see you in a bit." Jim said before disappearing with a soft pop.

The Tebo hides needed to be intact to fulfill the Hunting contract, so Xander chucked a well-sealed vial over the wall and heard it break on the other side. The fumes from the potion would knock out the Tebo for at least a few hours. After listening closely for a few minutes and hearing no movement, Xander took down a portion of the wall and the trio went to work.

Due to the magical nature of the Tebo, they couldn't be shrunken whole. The trio went through the bloody work of decapitating each of the Tebo and then skinning their hides. They also cut off each of the tusks, which were also valuable as they were often used as wand cores. After an hour of work the hides had been wrapped and bound. Anwar and Darukai had shrunken the bodies of the Tebo and were packing them away as well.

"Tasty meat," Anwar grinned. "Jerky and stew too," Darukai replied. They were much chattier now that Jim was gone and they could speak in their native tongue, which Xander had picked up enough of to follow along.

As they were finishing up, Xander wandered over to the Ashwinder. It had been a monster specimen, thick as his thigh and sporting an enormous head. Xander could see as the insides of the serpent slowly burned up; the fire magic that had powered the creature in life now consumed it in death. Only the skin was being spared from the flames. "Your kill, _Andikan_, your spoils," said Darukai as he came to stand beside Xander. Xander nodded, "Help me skin it?"

They both kneeled down and worked carefully to remove the skin without getting burnt. Ashwinder skin was useful; it was extremely fire resistant and tough once treated.

"Could use some new gloves," Xander thought to himself.

Anwar joined them and they had soon completed the task. Xander thanked the pair for their help before they also Apparated back to camp with a series of soft pops. The first rays of the sunrise had just begun to peak over the horizon.

* * *

Xander moved about his tent, weary from a night of work. The tent wasn't large by magical standards, but was comfortable. It was laid out like a loft, no separate rooms but containing a bed, desk, kitchen, and sitting area all in one space. A bathroom was through a door between the kitchen area and the bed. Xander propped his swords against a chair by the door, then slipped off his belt, boots, and jacket, all made of dragonhide. Xander then took off his shirt and walked over to the kitchen sink, conscious that he had company.

"Glass of water, Jim?" Xander called out. Jim was standing in the entrance. "Sure."

Jim pulled out a chair and sat down at the table, watching as Xander grabbed a couple glasses and filled them from the sink.

"Ya got a collection of scars that could compete with any I've ever seen," observed Jim.

"Anyone in this kind of work picks up scars, you probably have quite a few yourself," responded Xander as he sat down at the table, sliding a glass over to Jim.

"Aye, but the one on your neck has got to have a story behind it," Jim said as he took a sip.

Xander raised his hand and felt behind his head. A thin scar started just behind his ear and ran to the top of his shoulder. It had been one of his closest calls.

"Picked it up in a cave in India." Xander responded quietly.

Jim leaned back and raised his eyebrows. "I heard you were part of the team that went after some basilisks. Guess that isn't just a rumor, Xander?" The only response Jim got was a shrug. Silence filled the air as the two sipped their waters.

"I don't mean to pry, but just how old are you?" Jim asked softly. Xander looked up at Jim and shrugged the question off again.

"Isn't my business I suppose, and well skill is skill and by Circe you have plenty of that." Jim then downed the rest of his water and stood up.

"Just wanted to let you know, Bekele is going to be fine. I contacted Gringotts to let them know we finished and they are going to pay us our fee and will give us the commission once the Tebo hides are sold. Should be good money for 45 hides."

Xander nodded before Jim continued, "I'm heading home, or well to a pub at least, by the end of the day after a nap, but I just wanted to let you know been a pleasure working with you these last three weeks, and if you ever need a partner for another contract, I'd be more than happy to work with someone skilled enough to take down a Tebo single-handedly as you did more than a few times. Good luck to you and lemme know if ya ever need something."

"I will," Xander promised as he stood up. The two exchanged a handshake and goodbyes before Jim left the tent.

Xander wandered over to a mirror, replaying Jim's words in his mind. Xander's hands started tracing the scars that littered his chest and back. His right hand felt that back of his shoulder, where a small tattoo of an angry war god like Buddha was inked into his skin.

"_But just how old are you?_" Jim's words echoed in his mind. Sighing, he thought, "I didn't answer not because I didn't know, but because _I have no idea_."

Xander looked up at the mirror. He was tall, just shy of 6 feet, and slimly built but with extremely defined muscles. Not the kind of muscles that showed through clothes, but built for function over form. With his combination of muscles and scars a neck-down view of Xander would make one think of an older veteran warrior. However, the face did not match that image in the slightest.

"Haven't stopped growing yet, but I have slowed down," Xander muttered to himself.

"So what probably 17 or 18? Maybe 16, maybe 19?" Xander's earliest solid memories were from about 11 years ago, and he guessed he was probably around six, maybe seven, at the time. Memories from before that were very spotty and he didn't try to recall them often, for good reason.

Xander wandlessly summoned a shirt and slipped it on. He then remembered that something had arrived in the Gringotts Transfer box that sat next to his bed and strode over to it. Settling onto his bed Xander quickly skimmed through the packet of files before setting it down next to him.

"Was planning on heading to Europe anyway, and I have never been to Britain before. Gives me as good of reason as any too." Xander thought to himself. Summoning his wand, he quickly set up some wards around his tent before drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Harry Potter was sitting down for another dinner in silence at the Durselys' house. His hands throbbed slightly from the work he had done today, pruning the trees in the backyard. He picked silently at his food, a portion pitifully small for what a teenager needs, whilst Dudley hounded down his potatoes. Vernon was ranting again about some issue or another at work. Harry only picked up on a few words: "idiots…failures…can't find good labor these days." In other words, it was a standard Vernon Dursley tirade. Petunia absent-mindedly was agreeing with everything Vernon said; the entire dinner was nearly a carbon copy of every other dinner that summer. Tonight, however, was about to rapidly diverge from the norm.

* * *

Nearby, walking through Little Whinging and towards the innocent looking residence at 4 Privet Drive was a rather strange sight for the area. The man was tall, skinny, pale, and dressed in all black. He had a large, aggressively spiked mohawk that contained streaks of crimson. On the back of his head was a skull tattoo accentuated by complex runes in blood red. He sported silver earrings and a black stud on his nose. He was nearly the walking definition of everything the Dursleys would despise. As the man came to his destination on Privet Drive, he purposefully strode towards the door, a strange look somewhere between unbridled glee and reverent prayer crossing his face.

* * *

Harry froze at the sound of the explosion. The Dursleys were also completely still, before Vernon snapped out of his trance and bellowed, "The hell!" before standing to peak around a corner towards the front door, where the noise had come from. Harry then heard a scream of _Diffindo_ and saw the spell flash. Vernon, caught by surprise stumbled backwards onto the kitchen table, upending it. Harry acted on instinct and dove behind the table; a whimpering Petunia and Dudley soon joined him.

Vernon sat for a moment, mouth gaping in shock before registering what was going on. Harry Potter knew Vernon was not a brave man. Stupidity and bravery can be confused at times, however, so it didn't completely surprise Harry when Vernon started yelling from his sitting position.

"WHOEVER IN GOD'S NAME YOU ARE GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE, FREAK!" Vernon screamed with impressive volume. He then turned on Harry.

"This is your damn fault and you better fix it! You and your freakishness and your damn freakish kind…" Vernon was promptly cut off mid rant as Harry heard the cry of "Bombarda_"._ A spell flash passed the corner and hit a chair a few feet away, disintegrating it instantly.

"I WOULD BE ABLE TO DO SOMETHING IF YOU HADN'T LOCKED MY DAMN WAND UP!" bellowed Harry over the din as he dragged Vernon behind the upturned table.

Harry knew that the situation was somewhere between "Fall of Atlantis" and "End of the World" bad. Harry was wandless against an unknown assailant who was skipping the soft spells and going straight for deadly curses.

Harry started looking around, desperate for something that could get him out of this situation. He looked up just in time to see the assailant turn to corner. The man looked as if he belonged to some sort of satanic cult.

"Don't worry, I come to free you from the pain of this world," said the assassin with a smile and an accented voice as he raised his wand towards Harry. Harry's heart was in his throat and he his brain seemed to have stalled.

Just as the man began mouthing the spell, Harry heard a yell and saw the telltale red light of the Stunning Spell flash inches from the assailant's Mohawk. The man turned towards the front door and returned fire at this new entrant; clearly annoyed he had been disrupted.

Harry moved without thinking, grabbing a large china plate that lay on the floor and chucking it with all his strength at the Satanist assassin's head. The plate connected right on the man's temple and he instantly crumpled to the ground. An eerie silence settled for in the kitchen before a tall broad chested man came into view. He was bleeding from a cut on his forehead and had a number of lacerations on his arms.

"You alright?" he said in a deep baritone, looking at Harry.

"Who are you?" Harry replied somewhat bewildered.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt, I'm an auror. Again, are you alright?"

Harry meekly nodded while his mind began to race. The combination of the crazily dressed assassin, the auror who magically seemed know that he was in danger, and the carnage around him, had Harry's brain in overdrive.

"How…" Harry trailed off until he was interrupted by a growl coming from Vernon.

"WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED AND WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?" Vernon bellowed, ignoring the fact that Shacklebolt had probably saved their lives.

"Sir…" Shacklebolt began before getting cut off. Vernon was gaining steam.

"Bloody Hell! I don't even want to know. Take your freakishness and your freaky friend and get the out of my house." Vernon yelled while motioning at the still unconscious would be assassin. He then turned to Harry.

"You. This is your fault. You and your _weirdness_." Vernon said with an oddly quiet voice. "You can get the hell out of my home to. Take your things and get! Go with your freaky friends and get out. This will never be your home again to you and your…your…just OUT. GET OUT!" Vernon ranted, growing louder with every word until he was shouting at the top of his lungs. His face had gone from a normal complexion to red to an interesting shade of maroon.

Harry sat there for a moment staring in shock. Then his miserable years with the Dursleys began racing through his mind. The Cupboard. Dudley's Clothes. Marge. The Beatings. Meals. Freak. For once Harry's shame was drowned out by anger. Before Kingsley could say a word, Harry uncorked the years of frustrations straight at Vernon.

"FINE. THIS WAS NEVER MY HOME ANYWAY," Harry yelled. Plates, glasses and light bulbs all shattered at the accidental magic unleashed. Harry didn't notice the carnage he just caused as he stormed off towards the cupboard under the stairs, where all of his magical belongings were. Harry vaguely heard Kingsley swear behind him but didn't even register it.

* * *

Miles away, in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, a strange instrument let off a great puff of red smoke. Professor Dumbledore froze in shock for a moment before rising from his chair swifter than a man his age should and hurrying towards the Hogwarts front gates.

* * *

Just as Harry was trying to pry open the door to the cupboard three more aurors burst through the front door.

"Harry James Potter! Hands up, your under arrest for breaking the use of Underage Magic, breaking the Statue of Secrecy, and assault! Put your wand where I can see it!" Yelled the leading auror with his wand trained on Harry.

"Bloody Hell! I don't even have my wand! How can I be under arrest?" responded back a shocked Harry Potter.

"Stand down Dawlish, Jones, Whittman," came Kingsley's deep baritone voice. "No one is arresting Harry Potter tonight."

"Kingsley! What in Merlin's name…" the leading auror, Dawlish, trailed off gaping like a fish as Kingsley came into view, levitating the unconscious assailant in front of him.

"The magic picked up by the Trace wasn't Harry's, it was this man's along with a pair of Stunners from me. I can personally attest to it plus Harry's wand is stuck in that cupboard. You can do _Priori Incantado_ on this man's wand and ask the Muggles in the kitchen for confirmation if you need it," stated Kingsley coolly.

"But I have orders to arrest Potter" began Dawlish.

"And I'm telling you to _stand down_, or do your oaths to justice mean nothing?" responded Kingsley calmly. Dawlish paled slightly at Kingsley's words.

"Fine, Jones do _Priori Incantado._ Whittman help Kingsley, I'll get statements from the Muggles." Said Dawlish before turning to Harry. "Potter, don't go anywhere until we are done."

"I'll be on the lawn," growled out Harry. After nearly being killed by an insane assassin, arguing with Vernon, and nearly being arrested, Harry was not in a good mood. He finally succeeded in yanking open the cupboard. Stepping into it, he found his wand on a shelf, and slipped it into his back pocket. He then grabbed his trunk and broomstick, and started dragging them out the front door and towards the lawn. He had just made it through the door as he heard Vernon explode in a stream of curses at the auror Kingsley had referred to as Dawlish.

Harry dragged his trunk over to the lawn took a seat on top of it. Folding his arms over his knees, he knew he probably shouldn't be out in the open right after someone had just tried to kill him. "Whatever," muttered Harry. He no longer cared; he was simply too fed up with life itself at the moment to particularly care.

Kingsley and the other auror, "Whitting? No, Whittman," thought Harry, emerged moments later from the front door levitating the assailant. The man was bound in conjured ropes.

"You take him back to the Ministry, I'm going to stay here and help finish up," Kingsley said with a certain finality. Whittman nodded before grabbing the levitating man's elbow and disappearing with a pop.

Before Kingsley had time to say a single word, Dawlish and Jones emerged out of the house, Dawlish looking rather frustrated. The front door slammed shut behind them. "Vernon probably gave him quite the work over," Harry thought to himself smirking. Dawlish then turned his gaze to Harry.

"Alright your story stands up, though I didn't get much of a statement out of those Muggles," said Dawlish. "I better get back to the Ministry to clear this up, Kingsley will take your statement. Oh, and sorry about all this," finished Dawlish, not looking particularly sorry. Harry only nodded before Dawlish and Jones also disappeared with a pair of pops.

"Dumbledore know yet?" asked Harry. Kingsley had taken up an alert position next to Harry.

"I'm sure he does and is probably on his way, I'll wait to hear your side of what happened until he gets here. No point in making you repeat yourself," replied Kingsley.

Harry finally got a good look at Kingsley. He was tall, especially by British standards, easily 6'3 or 6'4, and seemed well built, not quite like a rugby player but still broad shouldered. His head was shaved bald and his dark skin seemed to blend into the night contrasted with his white teeth. Someone had patched up the cuts he had received and the only sign of the previous conflict were a few rips along his sleeves. He wore deep crimson robes, just as the other aurors had, and had on solid leather boots. Two rings on his right hand shone slightly from the moonlight. If Harry had to guess, he seemed to be in his early 30s.

Just as Harry turned away from Kingsley, Dumbledore appeared with a soft pop. He wore a long midnight blue robe and had an exhausted look on his face. Striding over to the pair quickly, Dumbledore shot Kingsley a questioning look.

"Guessing you know the wards fell," said Kingsley. "From what I can tell, they aren't coming back either. We better move to somewhere secure before we get into it."

Dumbledore looked around, "Where is Mundungus?" he asked. "Haven't seen him since we started duty," Kingsley practically spat out. Harry looked a bit shocked; Kingsley had been the definition of calm but the venom with which he had spoken with surprised Harry. Dumbledore let out a long sigh and rubbed his temples in small circles.

"Hogwarts, then," was all he said to Kingsley. Dumbledore finally turned towards Harry with an unreadable look.

"Harry, I'm sure you have much on your mind, but hold it in for a moment. Now, have you ever Apparated?" said Dumbledore. When Harry shook his head, Dumbledore simply nodded. Dumbledore pulled out his wand, shrunk and pocketed Harry's belongings, and then held out his elbow towards Harry.

"It is not the most pleasant sensation the first time. Now, simply grab my elbow firmly and hold tight." Harry complied silently.

The trio disappeared into the night. Harry had just left Privet Drive, never to call it home again.

* * *

As they sat in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, Harry thought Dumbledore looked at least a century older than he had 30 minutes ago. When they had arrived in the office, Dumbledore had promptly gathered his pensieve and set it in front of Harry.

"I will spare you from retelling the story if you agree to give me the memory of tonight's events, Harry. There are almost no repercussions as the memory I will extract is but a copy. It should, however, allow me to see the most accurate depiction of events." Dumbledore had said. "Kingsley, I will need your memory as well, though we will start with Harry's."

Now, after Dumbledore and Kingsley had finished watching Harry's memory through the pensieve, there was a thick silence. Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. Wrinkles had spread across his face and large bags sat under his eyes. Even his beard, which had always seemed to almost glow silver, had lost its sheen. Seeing Dumbledore in this state seemed to mollify the burning desire Harry had for information.

Kingsley stood off to the side, staring at Dumbledore expectantly. When Dumbledore finally spoke his voice came out almost as a rasp. "Kingsley, go to Headquarters and let Sirius know that Harry will be there shortly. I will take him there after a short but needed conversation. Afterwards, see if you can find Mundungus and…_escort_…him back to Headquarters and make sure he does not leave until I arrive. Also alert Moody." Kingsley nodded before heading out the door. During Dumbledore's speech Harry had actually perked up in a bit of excitement.

"I'll be living with Sirius?" he blurted out to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore cracked a tiny smile. "Yes, though first we must discuss tonight a bit, as I'm sure you are bursting with questions."

Harry's mind immediately exploded with activity. All the questions he was dying to ask suddenly flash through his mind. "What is Voldemort up to? Why haven't I gotten any information? How's the effort against him going? Why am I stuck at the Dursley's? Why hasn't anyone contacted me? Who was that man tonight? Why did the aurors almost arrest me?" Harry thought, his brain in overdrive. Just as Harry open his mouth to no doubt let loose a discombobulated rant, Dumbledore held up his hand.

"If I may, perhaps I shall speak first to perhaps, head off some of your curiosity" Dumbledore said, a slight twinkle returning to his eyes. That twinkle soon disappeared as Dumbledore began speaking again. "First, however, I must ask you a question…have you been having any dreams of Voldemort lately or has your scar hurt you recently?"

Harry thought for a moment before answering. "No sir, it has been a bit strange but I haven't felt a thing."

Dumbledore nodded, "Before I begin, you must understand that certain questions I cannot answer and certain information must remain private. I will do my best to allay your curiosity but I hope you will respect that." Harry was not happy with this but nodded nonetheless, his knew he would not budge the man believed to be the greatest wizard of the age.

"Alright, first off I'm sure you wonder why I had you return to Privet Drive for the summer. That answer is simple, I believed it was the safest place for you." At that, Harry opened his mouth to interject. How the hell could the Dursleys' be the safest place for him with Voldemort running around? It wasn't like they could ever protect him. Dumbledore raised his hand before Harry could speak, however.

"Allow me to finish. I believed it was the safest place for you because of certain wards that existed there and nowhere else. When I first brought you to the Dursleys' almost 15 years ago, I used a ritual that extended the protection your mother gave you to create very strong blood wards around the property. These blood wards could only exist where you had a blood relative, in this case your Aunt Petunia. The wards would prevent any that intended harm to you from entering the area, and because they were not just based on blood, but your mother's love, Voldemort could still not penetrate them, even after his terrible ritual this last June where he took your own blood."

Harry nodded, he didn't completely understand how "love" could make a ward, but understood the general premise. He also knew that Dumbledore had supposedly forgotten more magic than most people ever learned, and admitted that if anyone could come up with the ward that had just been described, it would be Dumbledore. Harry's only question now was if these blood wards were so powerful, what happened tonight?

Dumbledore's expression then turned extremely sad and apologetic as he continued; "Now Harry, it seems I owe you a great apology. As one has greater responsibility, it seems the oversights also grow exponentially. You are probably asking yourself why these wards failed to protect you tonight. It seems I made a grave mistake in trusting the wards as much as I did. The wards worked on intent, and I did not realize the rather large loophole that left. Have you seen the gap in the wards I refer to?"

Harry thought deeply for a moment. "Intent based? Loophole? Gah I have no idea how wards work!" thought Harry. "Sorry sir, but I don't see it. The attacker tonight pretty clearly seemed to what to hurt me. How wasn't he stopped?" said Harry

Dumbledore's expression seemed to change slightly into what Harry thought of as "Professor mode", something Harry remembered from his past conversation where Dumbledore would seemingly try to teach Harry through questions. "Well, here comes the headache…" was all Harry could think.

"Do you remember what the attacker said just before Kingsley's cast his first Stunner?" asked Dumbledore with a bit of eye twinkle.

It hit Harry like a jolt of electricity. "_Don't worry, I come to free you from the pain of this world," _the words ringing through Harry's head.

"He didn't think he was hurting me, did he sir. It almost sounded like he thought he was…_helping_…me somehow…and…and because of that he didn't have any intent to hurt me so the wards didn't stop him," Harry rambled all in one breath.

"During the school year that would be 10 points for Gryffindor. Voldemort must have been searching for a way around the wards and hired an outside assassin with a…unique world view to circumvent the wards," said Dumbledore. "So again, I must beg your forgiveness Harry. I should have realized such a loophole and by failing to do so, I put you in danger. I had guards keeping watch just in case but still, I am truly sorry."

Harry looked up at the old grandfatherly man he had so much respect for. Harry still had all of his pent up frustration from the past weeks, but seeing Dumbledore so defeated, Harry had a hard time blaming him.

"It's fine Professor, no one is perfect and Kingsley came in time anyway and I can hardly blame you for trying to protect me." Dumbledore smiled Harry's response.

"Thank you Harry, now it is getting late but if you have any questions I believe you deserve at least a few more answers before you are off to see Sirius." Harry spoke almost the instant Dumbledore had finished talking.

"So I really don't have to go back to the Dursleys'? I mean Vernon kicked me out and the wards aren't perfect but I really don't have to go back," said Harry, trying to conceal his rising hopes.

"No Harry, you will not be going back. Actually, I forgot to mention, the blood wards no longer exist. When your Uncle kicked you out and you accepted and left, with you both agreeing that it was no longer your home, the wards fell as one of the requirements for their existence was broken," replied Dumbledore serenely.

Harry didn't register most of Dumbledore's words, he had stopped paying attention when it was confirmed he didn't have to go back. His mind had quickly moved onto other questions, which he began blurting out as fast as he could.

"I just want to know what's going on. What has Voldemort been up to? What kind of attacks have their been? What is everyone doing to stop him?" Harry said quickly.

Dumbledore paused for a moment before leaning forward, placing his elbows on the table and steeping his fingers in front of him. "Voldemort has done relatively little in direct action. His great plans were foiled when you escaped from him alive this last June," began Dumbledore.

Harry was a bit confused, "How did I foil his plans?"

Dumbledore smiled a little, "You managed to alert the world of his return, robbing him of the element of surprise. During the first war he had quite the force, made up of men and creatures from most of Europe. Now we know he has returned, and we can try to stop him or at least match his efforts."

"Why can't we stop him now? There were only maybe like 30 Death Eaters last June...surely the Ministry and the Aurors are strong enough to crush him?" Harry asked.

"Ahhhh well there is where actually currently lies our greatest issue in the fight against Voldemort. Do you happen to recall what the Minister's attitude was last June to Voldemort's return?" said Dumbledore.

Harry was pensive for a moment, trying to recall what Fudge had said that night. "He doesn't believe Voldemort's back?" Harry asked hesitantly. Surely no one was _that_ stupid.

Dumbledore only nodded. "Bloody Hell!" yelled Harry, "How can he not believe he is back? He doesn't even believe you?"

"Alas, no he doesn't believe me. He seems to have convinced himself that actually this is a grand scheme of mine to remove Cornelius as Minister and take his place. He has begun a propaganda campaign against me that has been surprisingly successful," said Dumbledore.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry, "How has it been successful?"

Dumbledore pushed his fingers together and closed his eyes for a moment before speaking. "You must remember; Cornelius is not particularly powerful himself. He does have powerful supporters, however, such as Lucius Malfoy. These men are the ones who I believe are playing the strings. Their efforts have managed to have me removed as Supreme Mugwump of the ICW and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. I don't know if you know what those exactly entail but they are reasonable powerful judicial positions. My removal has…curbed…my influence fairly significantly. They also have begun to exert significant control on the _Prophet_. Thankfully, I still have a chocolate frog card."

Harry was trying to get his head around everything he had just heard. He was in shock; Fudge sounded even more idiotic than Crabbe and Goyle, and they were _Crabbe_ and _Goyle _for Merlin's sake!

"So let me get this straight. There was a golden opportunity to crush Voldemort early, right?" Dumbledore nodded in reply.

Harry continued, "But Fudge is the puppet of a bunch of Death Eaters and he got convinced that it was all a big plan for you to take his spot as Minister?"

Dumbledore nodded again, his eyes even twinkling a little.

Harry was now gaining steam, "So the Ministry is doing nothing except telling people we are crazy liars. So Voldemort now has plenty of time to lay low and plan his takeover."

The events of June, thoughts about Cedric's death, and weeks of frustration from the Dursleys' now manifested themselves in Harry's rant. His voice had so much venom that it even shocked Harry a bit.

"And because Fudge controls the press, not a soul believes he's back and we are just waiting for Voldemort to start blasting through the country with a massive army filled with Merlin knows what and start killing everybody." Harry snarled. "Bloody Hell! I don't think I have ever heard of a bigger brain-dead prat than Fudge, and I lived with Dudley!" finished Harry.

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes seemed to have returned a bit of their old spark. "Now usually I would have to reprimand you for such language, but I think in this case I will simply pretend I didn't hear anything," said Dumbledore. "You have summarized the situation admirably, though there is one point that is not quite correct. As you may be able to guess from Kingsley tonight, not everyone has been so foolish as to ignore the signs. During the first war against Voldemort, I led a group called the Order of the Phoenix against the Death Eaters. It was a sort of militia _per se_. Your parents were instrumental members actually. I have brought back the Order and made efforts to recruit once more. Though as you may imagine, the current environment has been a difficult one."

"Is that the 'Headquarters' you were referring to earlier, sir?" asked Harry.

"Yes it is, and with that I believe we should move to get you there as it is quite late and Madam Pomfrey would likely have my hide if I didn't get in a bed soon," replied Dumbledore while standing up.

In the back of Harry's mind he knew he still had a host of questions, but with all the frustration from the _idiocy_ he had just heard he couldn't seem to think of them. He looked up to see Dumbledore pushing a scrap of paper towards Harry. "Please memorize that quickly," Dumbledore told Harry. The scrap read:

_The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at 12 Grimmauld Place, London_.

Dumbledore then handed Harry's shrunken objects to Harry before pulling out his wand and tapping a quill on his desk while muttering _Portus_. The quill began glow a soft blue.

Dumbledore then looked up at Harry, "I have business to attend to so I unfortunately won't be accompanying you, though I know there is someone there who is quite excited to see you," said Dumbledore. Harry saw that his eyes had regained their customary level of twinkle, but he still looked incredibly ancient. "Now grab hold, and I shall see you tomorrow. Goodnight Harry and try not to worry."

Harry wished the Headmaster goodnight, his mind still whirring with all the new information he had just gotten. The minute he touched his quill he felt a great jerk upon his navel and disappeared from the office.

Dumbledore sat down again in his chair, taking off his glasses and placing them on the desk. The man most Europeans called "the greatest wizard of the generation" felt very tired.

* * *

Harry had seen many strange sights since being introduced to the world of magic. The one he found when he arrived at Grimmauld Place, however, ranked pretty high on his list. He had arrived in what he had once imagined had been a grand entrance area. Now, while spacious, was somewhat dark and dusty. It was laid out in a large oval with a grand staircase rising to his right. The wood accents were all extremely dark and the color scheme seemed to consist of a combination of black, grey, and midnight blue. An ancient wooden buffet was against the wall to Harry's left, and seemed to be accented with silvery snakes. The room had a musty smell.

The room's rather _dark_ nature was only a small part of the strange sight, however. In the middle of the room was a grand crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Hanging by chains from the chandelier was some sort of ragged bundle that Harry suddenly realized was a man. The skin that was exposed was red with welts that Harry recognized as the telltale signs of the standard Stinging Hex. The man was hanging upside down so that his face was inches from the floor. That was where the strangest part of the scene was. Harry saw a very familiar looking shaggy black dog lifting its leg and _peeing_ directly into the face of the hanging man. Harry wasn't sure whether to burst out laughing or intervene.

"Erm...hi?" Harry said tentatively. The dog immediately perked its ears and spun around, running towards Harry. Halfway there, the dog transformed into a black haired man who closed the gap to Harry in a couple steps and wrapped him in a giant bear hug.

"Harry! Are you alright? Thank god you are finally here!" Sirius said with a mix of excitement and concern.

Harry was smiling, and some of his frustration and negative emotions washed away with the hug. "Its great to see you too Sirius! And I'm fine, though could use a wash and bed. Also, I'm almost afraid to ask, but…who is that?" Harry said as he motioned towards the chained man.

"Tired? Let's get you to a bedroom, I already have one fixed up!" Sirius said jovially. He then turned to where Harry was motioning with a furious look that he was failing to mask. "Oh that? Don't worry; it's just a big, stinky, piece of _Dung._ Now follow me up that stairs so you can get some shut-eye. I'll give you the full tour tomorrow," said Sirius as he led Harry up the stairs.

Once at the top of the stairs, Sirius led Harry left and opened up one of the first doors. The hallway had matched the entrance, dark, damp and musty, so naturally Harry wasn't really expecting what he saw when Sirius pushed open the door.

The room was bright and trimmed entirely in crimson and gold, Gryffindor colors, and was enormous by Harry's standards, bigger than even the Dursleys' master bedroom at Privet Drive. There was a large king size bed flanked by two wooden nightstands. A large matching dresser was on one wall with an expansive desk next to it. Harry froze and gaped at it all for a moment.

"How do you like it? I've been getting it ready for you for the last few weeks," said Sirius with a knowing grin.

Harry finally snapped out of his trance, "This is brilliant Sirius! It's like a luxury bedroom version of the Gryffindor dorms! It's awesome!"

Sirius let out a big smile, "Glad you like it. The bathroom is right over there -you got your own- and I'm down the hall if you need anything. I'll let you clean up and get some rest, since you must be exhausted. We can catch up in the morning. Oh and let me unshrink those," Sirius said as he drew his wand and waved it at Harry's shrunken belongings. He gave Harry another hug before leaving the room.

As Sirius left, Harry finally felt the exhaustion of the day hit him. He knew it had to be somewhere close to two or three in the morning. He barely made it into the shower and was asleep moments after he had gotten into his new bed. Harry's exhausted brain seemed to have momentarily forgotten just how much his life had changed in the last 12 hours and he fell asleep without sparing a thought to his day.

* * *

**A/N: Hit the review button! Do it!**


	2. Change of Scenery

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**

**A/N: Read and constructively review. Proper grammar/spelling will likely make me take your review seriously.**

**For those following from the previous iteration, no major changes yet, though I a new small scene was added here and a bunch of minor adjustments. Trying to increase the Harry: Xander ratio, though this chapter is still fairly Xander heavy. **

* * *

**Chapter 2: Change of Scenery**

Xander was surprised how easy getting to England had been. Never having been before, he couldn't apparate directly, so he had to apparate from the Congo to Paris where he spent a few days resting and buying some necessities. He then decided to take an international portkey to London. Xander generally abhorred official portkey travel, way too much paperwork and bureaucrats. With his ICW medallion and hood pulled down over his face, however, he had managed to breeze right through the process. Seems the ICW was publicizing the bounty hunting measure pretty heavily and the medallion wasn't just for show. Xander was hoping it would work with the same efficiency when he went to the British Ministry of Magic that afternoon to pick up the case files on Sirius Black, but he wasn't keeping his hopes up.

Now, however, Xander was walking down Diagon Alley to follow rule number one of information gathering; find the local bars, hopefully those that are at least slightly seedy, and make friends. He was wearing jeans, tough dragonhide boots, and a long sleeve button down shirt. He was a little warm in the late July heat, but after the Congo jungle it was more than bearable. He looked close enough to an average young adult in muggle clothing that he wasn't drawing any extra attention.

Unlike an average teenager, however, Xander had his a wand in a quick draw holster under his sleeve and another in an ankle holster. His other ankle had an 8-inch rune enforced dagger strapped to it. Xander eyes were constantly darting around on high alert, looking for any threat. Some might say he was paranoid considering no one was paying him the slightest attention, but Xander preferred "alive and paranoid" to "careless and dead".

He had asked a couple of people at the portkey terminal and they had all mentioned the Leaky Cauldron as the most trafficked bar in Diagon Alley. Walking in the door, Xander saw a very familiar scene. Bad lighting? Check. Strange crowd? Check. Toothless barman? Check. "Got to love wizard bars, they keep it consistent," thought Xander. What Xander wasn't expecting was the occupant at one of the tables in the back right corner. The man was wearing a black leather jacket and was nursing a firewhiskey. His gaze was constantly sweeping the bar. Xander walked straight to him, the man raised his eyebrows straight to his hairline when he saw Xander approaching.

"Raine Talbot, aren't you a little far from home?" said Xander as he sat down.

"Now you're a face I wasn't expecting to see, Alejandro…or what do you go by around here?" replied Raine with a distinct American accent.

Raine Talbot was an American bounty hunter in his early 40s. Growing up in California, he had joined the American aurors for a stint before quitting and heading to Mexico. He had worked up a powerful reputation chasing bounties across Central and South America. Xander liked him, although a committed bounty hunter he had strict morals, always aiming to bring in targets alive.

"Xander for the English speakers. Got business, how about you? When you get out of Mexico?" said Xander

"Same. And bailed from Mexico about a month after that business in Columbia, figured I could use a change of scenery so headed to Spain and started picking up jobs for their Ministry. Tracked my latest target up here. What mess are you in now, Zombie?" replied Raine while sipping his firewhiskey.

Xander just sat there and recalled Columbia for a moment, a few of his scars itching in memory. It was where he had met Raine, both of them working together on a contract for a couple months. A crazy sect of wizards and their delusional Dark Lord leader had been kidnapping muggles under the cover of all the violence in the area and using them as sacrifices for dark rituals. The whole thing had involved a lot of blood and a high body count. That was where Xander had picked up the nickname "Zombie", after escaping a number of very, _very_ close calls and fighting the final confrontation with a few broken bones and cursed burns across his back. That had been about seven months ago, and Xander had only taken Creature Hunting contracts since then.

"Got my own target and looking for information around here. What's your target wanted for? And how close are you?" asked Xander. Raine raised his eyebrows at Xander. He knew Xander had only ever taken a few bounty contracts, though they had all been rather tough ones.

"Mine was some sort of Healer and Potions Master down in Spain. Was doing some weird experimentation with organs, when a couple co-workers confronted him. He decided to kill them both and leave the country. Almost got him in Paris, tracked him here where he met up with a few shady characters a few days ago," said Raine. "How about you, what kind of target caught your eye?" asked a very interested Raine.

Xander hesitated, it wasn't public who had gotten the Sirius Black contracts and he wasn't sure he wanted everyone to know yet, and if Raine found out, everyone and their neighbor's mother would find out. "People will find out sooner or later, and hell maybe he's heard something," Xander thought.

Xander dug into his pockets and pulled out the shrunken file he had received for the contract. He wordlessly tapped it once with his wand and it sprang back to size. He then slid it over to Raine. Raine's eyebrow went straight up and he let out a low whistle when he opened the file.

"You sure know how to find the tough ones," said Raine. Xander shrugged.

Raine kept going, "Got anything yet?"

"Nah, going over to the Ministry to pick up the case files later today, just got into town a few hours ago, I'm thinking he's probably in Britain though. If he is a follower of Voldemort or whatever he will probably be around." replied Xander.

Raine just nodded. The British Ministry and the ICW might be denying the British Dark Lord return, but Xander and Raine knew better. _Someone_ had been recruiting pretty heavily, especially among the darker and more insane folk, just when Dumbledore had claimed Voldemort's return. Wasn't too hard to figure it out.

"Hmmmm, well if you're in on this I might have to switch my bet away from Jacques, you'll probably get me better odds," said Raine. Jacques "Limbs" Maison was a Creole-French bounty hunter with a near god-like reputation in the bounty hunter community. Legend had it that he had gone toe-to-toe with Grindelwald and walked away from a stalemate in his youth. He had a penchant for turning in his bounties alive but missing limbs, thus the nickname.

"Betting pool already?" said Xander.

"You know it, pretty big one as well," replied Raine with a grin as he finished reading the contract and put it back down on the table. "They give you any other information?"

"Just a bunch of legal junk and some photos," replied Xander. He popped the folder back open and removed the photos; there was one of Black, Pettigrew, the burned Potter house, and the street that had been blown up. He slid them over to Raine.

As he looked through the, Raine suddenly recognized one, "Hey I've saw him not two days ago in Britain! Black was one of the men that met up with my target!" said Raine while holding the photo he had recognized.

Xander's eyebrows shot straight up. "A solid lead? Only two days old? How lucky can you get," he just thought. "Really? Don't joke with me here Raine," said Xander, getting excited.

"No joke _hombre_, saw this man not two days ago in an alley up in the seedy part of Diagon Alley. Knockturn Alley they call it," said Raine as he flipped the photo around to face Xander.

"Erm…Raine…you sure…because that photo is of Peter Pettigrew…the dead guy…" Xander trailed off, looking at the photo Raine had flipped towards him.

Now Raine just look confused, "Swear to Circe it was him, and he sure as hell wasn't dead." Xander sat there in silence for a moment. Raine was good; he wouldn't make a mistake like this. But Pettigrew was dead, that was confirmed. "You absolutely sure, Raine?' Xander asked again.

"I can show you the memory if you want, I got a room here and my Pensieve with me," replied Raine a little crankily. Professionals of his caliber didn't like their skills being questioned. Xander nodded immediately and they both quickly made their way upstairs into Raine's room.

Once there, Raine walked over to his trunk. He pulled out a key from a thin chain around his neck and put it in the lock. He then bit his thumb until he drew blood and pressed it on a small pad next to the keyhole. The pad glowed as he pressed his thumb in and the trunk popped open. Raine then pulled out a small square copper bowl covered in runes, his Pensieve. Xander wasn't surprised he had one, while somewhat rare and incredibly expensive they were almost infinitely useful. Xander had one himself.

"Memory's already in there, been reviewing it for the last couple days to see if I could catch a lead," said Raine. Xander nodded before walking over and hopping in. When he exited, Xander walked over to a chair and promptly collapsed in it. After a moment of silence he turned to Raine.

"I think I'm starting to see why you drink so much," said Xander. The man in the alley had looked exactly like an aged Peter Pettigrew.

Raine gave a short laugh before responding, "Aye, the work never makes sense does it? You should probably go grab the case and trial files; those will probably help you make sense of things. Maybe Pettigrew had a twin brother or something. Let me know when you get them, they might have something that could help me out as it seems your mess and my mess might be part of one big mess."

Xander just nodded before heading out the door in silence. He went downstairs to the barman, Tom, and booked a room at the Leaky Cauldron. He went to his room and began to unpack and unshrink his things, preparing to go to the British Ministry. His brain was whirring in overdrive and he was getting a sinking feeling that he would be in need to a headache remedy before the day was done.

* * *

To avoid as many problems as possible at the British Ministry, Xander had decided to go with his most over-the-top decorated outfit. He wore a resplendent blue battle robe with gold trimmings and with basilisk-hide reinforced patches on the shoulders, elbows, and chest. Strapped on his back where his two swords in their ceremonial scabbards. His boots were freshly polished black dragonhide and he completed the look with two daggers slide into the sash that cinched the robes close to his body. To a passerby or minor bureaucrat he looked like the fairy tale definition of rugged and powerful bounty hunter. Xander just felt like a walking target.

"Stupid robes are just asking to get caught on something if I get attacked, the ceremonial scabbards mean I can't draw as quickly, the daggers will of course get caught if I try to whip them out, and I look like I have a giant bull's-eye painted on me," grumbled Xander mentally as he stumbled out of the floo at the Ministry of Magic.

He had placed a couple of glamour charms on his face to look a few years older and had his hood pulled down over his face to keep it concealed. As he walked to the through the entrance hall to the check-in desk, he noticed the numerous covert looks he was getting. "Well seems this ridiculous look might work after all," Xander muttered so only he could hear. As he arrived at the guard desk he flashed his ICW medallion to the slightly starry eyed man sitting behind it.

"Coming to pick up the case files on Sirius Black, I have ICW clearance," barked Xander. He knew it was best to seem commanding in these situations.

"Erm…yes sir..I'll just need your name and wand sir," stammered out the man.

Xander thought for a moment. He sure as hell did not want to give up his wand for a moment, but he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, and they didn't need _both_ his wands. Xander popped his back-up wand out of his left wrist holster and handed it to the man. "Xander," he said simply. The man behind the desk juggled the wand for a moment before taking a couple of readings and scribbling the name Xander on a long scroll of parchment.

"All right you are all set, just follow the signs to the DMLE offices and they have the files," said the man as he handed Xander's wand back. Xander swept away without another word.

Xander strode through Ministry, his robes billowing behind him, trying to avoid the looks he was getting. He hated all the attention, it was never an advantage in the kind of work he did. He finally arrived in the DMLE office; as he entered he saw the looks he was given noticeably change. Before people had looked at him with a mixture of awe and trepidation, here the aurors were shooting glares at him. Clearly they didn't appreciate someone stepping on what they thought was their territory. "If they didn't want it to come to this they should have solved the case themselves," thought Xander as he spotted what looked like a records room and started heading for it.

He made it two thirds of the way there before an auror stepped in front of him and directly blocked his path. He was a younger auror, maybe 21 or 22 if that, and had been leaning against a cubicle with two other aurors glaring at Xander as he approached. "Of course, someone just needed to make an idiot out of himself," thought Xander.

The man drew himself up to his full height, glaring daggers at Xander, and then began to speak to Xander. "Better watch yourself bounty hunter. We don't need any killers running around England and I'll be watching your every step," said the man in what he thought was a dangerous tone. Xander was not impressed; he had felt more threatened by baby kneazles. Then Xander noticed something that nearly caused him to burst out laughing, the auror's wand was hanging halfway out of the front pocket of man's crimson robes. "What kind of amateur hour is this? He has his wand just hanging there? You kidding me?" thought Xander. He then started grinning, and Fate just started to feel a little bad for the poor unsuspecting auror.

Xander made an obvious move to shift his stance, drawing attention away from the auror. His right arm was hanging down at his side, concealed from all that were watching the confrontation, so Xander made a subtle motioning movement with his fingers and wandlessly summoned the auror's wand out of his pocket, without the auror noticing.

"So your telling me you'll be watching my every step," said Xander coolly.

"Bloody hell right," replied the man, still glaring.

"You must think you are rather confident in your skills to be that confident," said Xander, begging the man to fall into his trap. The man obliged Xander.

"I'm damn good with my wand, if that's what you're asking," he said, getting even more riled up.

"You mean this wand?" grinned Xander as he waved the man's wand in front of his face.

The man's jaw dropped open, along with everyone else's who had been watching. They were all wondering how Xander had grabbed the auror's wand without anyone noticing. "Well, nearly everyone," though Xander. He noticed a man leaning against a doorway off to the right who was grinning slightly. He was concealed in the shadows but Xander could still see that one of his eyes was a pale blue orb. Xander had a pretty good idea who he was.

Tossing the man his wand and leaving the aurors behind still gaping like fish, Xander brushed by them over to the records room. It took all of five minutes to be handed over the files, which were considerably thinner than Xander expected. His ICW medallion combined with his little stunt just before seemed to have the auror on desk duty moving with a serious spring in his step.

Xander quickly made his way out of the DMLE offices and into a corridor that would lead him to the Ministry's main elevators so he could head back to the Leaky Cauldron. Leaning against the wall, seemingly waiting for him as he exited, was the one auror who hadn't been surprised by Xander's stunt.

"I had heard Mad-Eye Moody was retired," said Xander as the man started walking with him, his blue eye spinning wildly in its socket.

"That I am, but with my title of Master Auror I still drop by the offices now and again. That was a neat trick you pulled in there. Wandless magic isn't something you see everyday," said Moody casually.

Xander simply shrugged. "Maybe you should stop by more, if that auror was at all like the rest of them, they could sure use someone with your reputation around," Xander asked probingly. This time it was Moody's turn to shrug.

"The upper management aren't big fans of me lately," he replied. They walked in silence for a moment, the elevators coming into view.

"By the way, you might want to let the right people know that a certain _Lord_ is casting his net pretty wide, and some of the fish he's catching are pretty nasty, if you catch my drift," said Xander. He had no idea why he had said that, he knew Mad-Eye Moody by reputation but that was definitely more information than he would ever usually willingly part with.

Mad-Eye's eyebrows rose a bit at Xander's statement. "Thank you for that. What's it to you if you don't mind me asking," Moody asked slightly suspiciously. "Not a simple question," thought Xander.

"Considering how low my opinion of your auror force is right now after that little experience I thought it might be useful," replied Xander casually.

They had finally arrived at the elevators. Moody had turned towards Xander and was giving him a very deep look.

"Your glamours are pretty good, but they won't fool this eye," said Mad-Eye quietly, so no one could overhear. "Well, fuck." thought Xander.

"Mind keeping that bit of information to yourself," asked Xander hopefully. Moody just nodded as Xander got onto the elevator without him and left the Ministry.

* * *

Raine and Xander were sitting in Xander's room. It was close to midnight. They had just gone through the files Xander had obtained from the Ministry. A nearly finished bottle rum sat between them.

"So let me get this straight one more time," started Raine. Xander just nodded while rubbing his temples. He was sitting on the floor cross-legged with the files spread around him. He had a massive headache.

"In the mess at the end of the last war, Ministry picks up Sirius Black after he betrayed the Potter's as their secret keeper and for murdering a dozen muggles and Peter Pettigrew. Evidence seemed fairly concrete at the time and they were sure he was some Voldemort follower." Xander nodded.

"Then they decided to skip the trial part, throw the guy straight in Azkaban no questions asked. Never even asked him if he wasn't the Secret Keeper. Or for any explanation at all." Xander felt his headache pound harder.

Raine continued, "And now we spot Peter Pettigrew, because he doesn't have a twin, a few days ago here in Britain. Not a dead Peter Pettigrew either. And Sirius Black has escaped but hasn't done a single violent thing since." Xander sipped took a gulp of rum.

Raine looked up at Xander. He was sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room. He paused for a moment before continuing, "Well the only thing I can say to this, is what the fucking hell is going on?"

Silence filled the room for a moment. Xander finally spoke.

"Peter Pettigrew was meeting up with your guy right? And you were tracking him here because you were pretty sure he was trying to join up with Voldemort, yeah?" This time it was Raine's turn to nod.

"So hypothetically, Peter Pettigrew is the one working for Voldemort, and has been for who knows how long…" trailed off Xander. Raine's eyes shot open at the connection.

"You don't think…since the first war?" said Raine

Xander continued, "I mean Secret Keeper isn't something you go around telling everyone…and they never questioned Black about it." Raine looked pensive.

"Still is a decent amount of evidence against him, the things he said in prison and he might have killed those muggles," said Raine.

"Yes, but not so clear cut is it?" shot back Xander. He had a gut feeling he was onto something, and his gut tended to be extremely accurate.

Raine nodded in agreement. They could both tell something was very bizarre about the whole thing. "So what are you going to do?" he asked Xander.

Xander grabbed the photo of Pettigrew that was laying to his right. He looked at it for a moment.

"I'm gonna make a grab for Pettigrew. It's by far the best lead since he was in the area a couple days ago and he clearly will know something. Besides, the contract is for the betrayer of the Potter's and the murderer of the muggles, and if I haul in both Black and Pettigrew for whatever the hell each of them did I'm sure the ICW won't mind too much." Xander then turned to Raine, "You still going after your guy?" he asked.

Raine looked down at his class of rum and sat there in silence. After a good minute he finally spoke, "I told myself if I tracked this guy here and found he had already joined up with Voldemort I'd call it quits. That isn't a mess I want to touch, it's way too likely to get me killed. The bounty isn't big enough for that kind of risk. With this new information it's looking like that's exactly the situation so I think I'm gonna back out while I'm ahead and not racking up medical bills. You weren't around but Voldemort is…scary…I didn't experience it first hand first time around but from what I heard he is ruthless, cunning, and insane."

Raine then turned towards Xander. "You sure you going through with this job?" Xander just nodded, he never liked to stop something halfway, and more than anything he was now intrigued.

Raine put his head down. "Watch yourself, there are some jobs where the blowback you get is way bigger than the reward. You are going to put a really big-ass target on your back if you piss of Voldemort and you better be ready for that. I'm not going to tell you what you should do because Circe knows you can make your own decisions, but…" Raine trailed off.

"Don't worry Raine, you don't call me Zombie for nothing. I'll watch myself," said Xander.

Raine finally got up out of his chair and headed out to his room. Once he left Xander warded the room a little more heavily than he would normally before changing and lying down on his bed, his brain already developing a plan to find Pettigrew.

Elsewhere in Great Britain, a rat-like man awoke from his small bedroom in the large manor he was staying at. Peter Pettigrew was on borrowed time.

* * *

As he finally stirred awake, Harry realized he was immensely comfortable. His pillow was silky soft, the blankets pleasantly warm, and the mattress luxurious. "I must be dreaming because my bed at the Dursleys doesn't feel anything like this," Harry thought. '"The Dursleys," Harry's groggy mind seemed to stay on that thought until it connected the memories of the previous day and Harry shot awake. He sat up in his bed as he looked around his new room, grinning like it was Christmas, his birthday, and New Years all in one. The grin slowly faded as the rest of the events of the previous day seeped into Harry's mind. His brain started it's own mental tennis match on the positives and negatives of what happened.

"Alright almost got myself killed. That's bad. Still alive, which is good. World thinks I'm a crazy liar. Bad, but I'm used to it unfortunately. I'm not at the Dursleys anymore, really good. Almost no one thinks Voldemort is back. That's really really really bad. I never have to go back to the Dursleys again. That's really really really good, at least for me."

Harry's mind bounced back and forth trying to decide on a mood. He finally settled slightly frustrated and moody; to Harry the world under mortal threat of Voldemort outweighed his own personal gains of the previous day. "Oh and the small detail that Voldemort seems obsessed with me doesn't help," Harry thought with a grimace.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted as the door to his room opened. Sirius proceeded to emerge from the doorway, and with him was something that immediately snapped Harry out of his surly mood.

"Hedwig!" Harry yelled. He hadn't been able to take her with him when he had left the Dursleys because she had been out hunting. Harry hadn't been too worried, however, Hedwig seemed to be a genius at finding Harry or letter destinations.

"Good morning! Damn smart owl you got here!" said Sirius as he stepped a bit further into the room.

Harry had been in such a daze the previous night that it was the first time he got a real look at Sirius. The first thing he noticed was that he looked a lot healthier; his face was still slightly gaunt but Sirius' cheeks were colored and his hair and his longish hair had some sheen to it. He was still thin but had put on a healthy amount of weight. Harry was starting to see how Sirius might have been known as a hit with the girls at one time.

"Harry?" Sirius said, snapping Harry out of his funk.

"Yeah, she is a smart owl," Harry said smiling as he got out of bed and walked over to Sirius to pet Hedwig, "and good morning to you too, Sirius."

Harry's stomach chose to grumble at the particular point, which got him a pointed look from Sirius.

"Hungry? You must be after those damn muggles," said Sirius, grimacing slightly.

"Yeah some breakfast would be good if it isn't too much trouble. Oh and what time is it?" Harry asked quickly.

Sirius gave Harry a very poignant look, "Harry, it will never _ever_ be too much trouble, understand? Now let's go get the elves to whip us something up."

Hedwig then flew off and Sirius guided Harry out of his room and back down the staircase into the entry hall. The hanging man from yesterday was no longer there, though a pile of chains did sit in the corner. The pair walked across the entry to another hallway, and Harry started to hear muffled yelling coming from the end of the hallway. He turned to look at Sirius who cringed a bit.

"Damn, I had hoped they would have finished up by now, hopefully they'll quiet down when we get there," explained Sirius.

Harry still looked confused, "Who is it?" he asked.

"Mad-Eye is chewing out Kingsley about last night," Sirius said simply. This left Harry more confused; Kingsley saved his life, why in the name of Merlin was he getting yelled at? The picture became clearer once the pair entered the room.

The room was a long rectangle that contained a large kitchen and an eating area with an informal table and about ten chairs. The chairs were simple but seemed well made while the table was quite thick and looked to be made of polished cedar. Sitting on the table was what Harry recognized as a small Pensieve. The walls were a color between light brown and cream and the ceiling was considerably higher than it had been in the hall. On the wall to his right was a single painting of a basket of bread next to a steaming steak. Harry thought the room seemed noticeably brighter and more used than the hallway and entry hall he had just come through. Just a few feet from where he was, Harry could see Mad-Eye standing, clearly worked up as Kingsley sat in a chair, practically cowering.

"YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE ONE OF OUR BEST AURORS FOR CIRCE'S SAKE, HOW ON EARTH DID A SINGLE THREAT GET ANYWHERE NEAR THE HOUSE BEFORE YOU ACTED," bellowed Mad-Eye. Kingsley seemed to mumble something involving the words, "side of the house" and "Mundungus". This only seemed to rile Mad-Eye more.

"DON'T GET ME STARTED ABOUT MUNDUNGUS, I'LL HAVE HIS HIDE WHEN I FIND HIM. STILL NO EXCUSE SHACKLEBOLT! YOUR RESPONSE TIME WAS PATHETIC, AND THEN FOR MERLIN'S SAKE RIGHT AFTER YOUR MARK WAS ATTACKED YOU LET HIM SIT BY HIMSELF IN THE OPEN? MIGHT AS WELL HANDED HIM OVER WITH A BOW TIED AROUND HIS HEAD," yelled Mad-Eye at an impossibly loud volume, his real and fake eye drilling into Kingsley. Kingsley was sinking into his chair, looking nothing like the calm, powerful man Harry had seen yesterday.

Dumbledore chose this moment to enter the room behind Sirius and Harry. "Alastor, I believe that is enough," he said gazing at the scene calmly. Mad-Eye's gaze snapped towards Dumbledore, "No it damn well isn't Dumbledore, these were amateur mistakes and…" Mad-Eye was cut off by Dumbledore, however, who spoke in a much firmer tone the second time around, "This can be continued _later_, Alastor."

Mad-Eye stopped speaking, but still didn't look particularly happy. It was only then that he and Kingsley realized that Sirius and Harry were in the room. Kingsley greeted them with a rather weak, "good morning" while Mad-Eye just nodded grumpily. Dumbledore then turned to Sirius and Harry. "Well we shall get out of your way, I'm sure you two will be wanting breakfast and we have some business to attend to," said Dumbledore with a light smile. Harry and Sirius just nodded and Dumbledore headed back into the hallway, followed by a still grumpy Mad-Eye, who had shrunken the Pensieve and taken it with him, and an immensely relieved Kingsley.

Harry and Sirius just stood there a moment, still slightly shell-shocked from all the yelling.

"Quite the start to the morning," said Sirius.

"Uh-huh," Harry replied incredibly eloquently.

"Well," Sirius said clapping his hands together, "Breakfast then! Mopsy! Kreacher!" Sirius then called out. Two house-eleves dressed in wrinkled black pillowcases held in place by golden rope belts suddenly appeared. "Eggs and bacon for two," commanded Sirius before sitting down at the table. Harry sat down as well, staring at the two house-elves as they went to work.

"Sirius? What exactly is this place?" Harry asked. He had kind of figured it was Sirius' but it seemed rather opulent in a dark sort of way. It was not at all the house Harry had imagined Sirius living in.

"Ahhhh, well kiddo, this is one of the ancestral Black family homes and, more importantly, where yours truly grew up before getting kicked out when I was 16 and moving in with dad and his parents," said Sirius.

"Kicked out?" replied Harry. The whole thing was still only making slightly more sense to him.

Sirius spoke again, "Well, I don't really like talking about my family…but I'm guessing you noticed the house is rather…"

"Dark?" Harry supplied.

"Yes, and well the Blacks have a reputation of being a family much more like the Malfoys than say, the Weasleys or the Longbottoms. The Blacks are an Ancient and Noble house and have been big into blood purity and the Dark Arts for centuries. My cousin, Narcissa, is actually a Malfoy now to give you an idea. My other cousin is in Azkaban for being a Death Eater while my brother died in Voldemort's service," Sirius said rather quickly and grimly.

Harry was shocked. How were Sirius' family Death Eaters and Malfoys? His mind was reeling. Sirius looked at Harry's face and grinned slightly.

"Probably wondering how I'm related? Well that's where the 'kicked out' business comes in. First off I was the first non-Slytherin in ages, and a Gryffindor to boot, which right pissed them off. Then, when I was home for summer after sixth year, I told them I didn't believe in all the blood purity nonsense and thought Voldemort could go piss off. That got me kicked out of the house and nearly disinherited, only reason I wasn't is because there weren't that many Black's left and they were obsessed with making sure the name continued. Way I see it, joke's on them now since I'm the last Black and I'm using the house to fight Voldemort," finished Sirius with a grin. Harry sat there in silence, soaking it all in. He didn't care at all, he still saw Sirius as the closest connection he had left to his parents, and anything conceptually similar to "family".

Snapping Harry out of his thought was the appearance of a large plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of him. Harry turned to the elf that had delivered it a mumbled, "thank you". The elf looked shocked and bowed deeply. Harry, remembering his previous hunger, began digging in earnestly; though simple the breakfast was delicious.

"So, what have you been up to Sirius?" asked Harry between bites.

Frustration flashed across Sirius' face. "Unfortunately I've been cooped up in the house all the time. It's actually even more dangerous for me to go out because the new ICW Supreme Mugwump put out a massive bounty on me. So now in addition to the Ministry there are a bunch of powerful bounty hunters that want my skin," said Sirius.

Harry could see the frustration at being almost imprisoned in his own home and he mentally scowled at this new Supreme Mugwump and the bounty hunters that were making his godfather's life more difficult.

"Don't worry about it, there is plenty to do around the house and now that you're here for company I know things won't be boring," Sirius grinned. Harry nodded.

"What's there to do around the house?" Harry asked, polishing off the last bits of his breakfast.

"Well there are some chores, the place hadn't been inhabited for awhile and the Order has been cleaning it up there are still a lot of rooms we need to go through and sort. We've been trying to sell some of the untraceable things to raise money for the Order and also just get the place cleaned up, as it's a damn big house. The elves have been helping, but I still have decide what to keep and what to throw out and how to change the rooms so it doesn't look like some Dark Arts retreat," said Sirius. "If you're done I can actually give you the grand tour of the place and we can get started on some of it," finished Sirius.

Harry nodded and stood up smiling. He was used to chores from the Dursleys, but had a feeling that chores with his Marauder godfather in a magical house were going to be a whole lot more fun than he was used it.

* * *

As Harry and Sirius went off to explore Grimmauld Place, Dumbledore sat in his office looking weary. Across from him stood Mad-Eye Moody, his blue eye spinning wildly.

"He needed to be chewed out more, Albus, Kingsley can't be making those kind of mistakes," Mad-Eye ranted.

Dumbledore sighed. His old friend would not be placated. "Kingsley is a fine auror, you have said it yourself at times."

"In peace yes, but not for what's coming. None of the aurors are ready for what's coming, nor are most of the Order. We are weak Albus. We have people with potential like Kingsley, Tonks, and Bill, but they lack experience and they haven't polished their skills. Last time we had at least a dozen wizards in just the Order who could have bested those three, and they along with Black are probably our strongest duelers after you and I. The Potters, Prewetts, Bones', Longbottoms; they were our strength last time, and now there isn't anyone to fill that void. He'll have even more forces this time, while we will be weaker, and we _weren't even damn winning_ last time," ranted Mad-Eye.

Dumbledore looked down, both saddened by the memory of lost comrades and stressed because he knew Mad-Eye's words were true. "We lost many a good wizard in the last war and it is true, the we still hasn't recovered," said Dumbledore.

"Aye, and they didn't lose many because we wouldn't kill unless we had to. Merlin help us when Azkaban falls and they release monsters like Bellatrix and Dolohov. I'm not sure I could keep up with them again like last time, considering what I lost in the last war," finished Moody grimly, motioning to his peg leg.

He then looked up at Dumbledore and gave him a hard look. "You aren't getting any younger either, Albus."

"I know, and Voldemort only grows stronger. I do not know how much longer I can match him, or if I can even match him next time we battle," said Dumbledore with a resigned tone.

A grim silence filled the air. Both realized that the problems they faced were immense and there were no obvious solutions. Mad-Eye, never one to sugar coat, kept the bad news coming.

"He's recruiting far and wide this time I've heard," Mad-Eye said.

Dumbledore looked up with a questioning gaze, "We already know he has sent envoys to the giants, vampires, and werewolves…just as he did last time."

"I'm not talking about creatures, Albus," Mad-Eye said, "I'm talking about foreigners –dark bounty hunters, criminals on the loose, murderers-for-hire, and the like. Not just from Europe this time, he's going global. His side is going be a hell of a lot more experienced, even if the Ministry gets their heads out of their asses and helps us in time."

"What can we do, Alastor, there is no solution obvious to me," said Dumbledore with a rare, frustrated tone.

Mad-Eye shot back an answer quickly. "Let us go after a Death Eater, capture him, and pump him full of Veritaserum in front of Bones. Then the DMLE and Ministry will have to act," shot back Mad-Eye.

Dumbledore sighed; he had already vetoed this idea. "You know we can't Alastor, with the Ministry as is all we are liable to do is get Madam Bones fired. We can't do that, she is the only reason the auror force isn't even worst than it is." Moody reluctantly nodded. He understood, but didn't like it. "Bloody Fudge," he growled out.

Dumbledore leaned back and rubbed his forehead. There were so many problems and he saw could think of no answers. He cursed the decline of Defense teaching at Hogwarts due to the jinx. He cursed further the Ministry for their stupidity and for hoisting some fraud bureaucrat for this year. The war was going poorly, and it hadn't even started. Dumbledore was practically begging Fate that something would finally break their way.

* * *

The next couple weeks were some of the most enjoyable of Harry's life. Chores with Sirius did not feel like work at all; the two of them would joke around continuously as they were organizing Grimmauld Place. Sirius' idea on "organizing" was new to Harry, who had grown up with Aunt Petunia's perfectionist attitudes. For example, when Sirius had decided to get rid of a bunch of glassware embossed with the Black family crest, he decided to use them as bowling pins in a game with Harry. The half-dozen elves were not very happy at the enormous mess that they made but Harry had been all smiles; he loved getting to know his godfather and partaking in so many activities he had missed out on at the Dursleys.

Sirius had seemed to take his surrogate father role very seriously. One morning at breakfast Sirius had even nagged Harry about doing his homework, which had caused an Order member who had been eating with them, Emmeline Vance, to choke on her oatmeal. "You…homework…serious?" she had spluttered.

"Why yes I am Sirius," grinned Sirius at this usual joke, "and hey, Lily would hex me into oblivion if I didn't nag him, she was always responsible." finished Sirius.

It felt so different to Harry that he now had someone that cared about him so that he even liked the nagging, plus Sirius' nagging wasn't annoying like Hermione's. Sirius even helped him with his work and Harry had finished it all within a few days.

Harry also saw Ron and the rest of the Weasleys, minus Charlie and Ginny, within a few days of arriving at Grimmauld Place. The Weasley parents were part of the Order and had come for one of the large general meetings they held every few days. Harry had been quite put out when he was told he wouldn't be allowed to attend, but Dumbledore had insisted that only those of age could be apart of the Order. Harry had still been a bit annoyed at Ron for not writing him though had forgiven Ron when he had explained why. "Said he didn't want us telling you anything important in case it got intercepted or something," said Ron as eloquently as ever. Harry had still been a bit peeved, "Still could have written something," he had thought before shrugging it off. Ron wasn't exactly the brightest and most tactful of friends.

He and Ron then proceeded to play a game of wizard's chess (Harry was destroyed per usual) while they caught up. Fred and George had seemed content with exploring the house while Ginny had been left at the Burrow with Charlie.

Ron didn't have much to say to Harry's recounting of the attack at the Dursleys except a, "Bloody Hell!" which unfortunately Mrs. Weasley had heard and told off Ron for. Harry found out that Mrs. Weasley had been pretty much put the Burrow on lockdown due to the war.

"Been a right pain, she's been. You-Know-Who coming back has her thinking that the best way to keep us safe is to lock us in the house and never let us out. Blows up at the smallest things too, I got yelled at for wandering out too far when we degnomed the garden last week for Merlin's sake!" Ron had said before he had left via the Floo for the Burrow.

Harry had seen Ron a few other times, always when there was a large Order meeting, but he had always been quickly herded home by Mrs. Weasley. Harry could tell that Mrs. Weasley seemed to get nervous when any her children were out of sight for longer than a few moments and had taken her "mothering" to a whole new level. Harry had been cheered, however, by something Ron had said on his last visit.

"Sorry I can't come over here alone mate. But dad and Sirius have been working on convincing mom and we might all be able to come and live here for the last couple weeks of summer!" Ron had said grinning before leaving.

Although Harry missed his friends dearly, he was still happier than he had ever imagined feeling after the previous couple months of his life. The stress, frustration, and depression of watching Cedric die, Voldemort return, and living with the Dursleys was slowly washing away thanks to Sirius and the constant activity around Grimmauld Place.

* * *

"Sirus?" Harry asked as the two of them ate breakfast while listening to wizarding radio one morning.

"Yep!"

"I have a question."

"Fire away," replied Sirius, turning away from the paper to look at Harry.

Harry set down a scone after taking a bite. "How does magical detection work? Like, underage magical detection? Doesn't seem so accurate if they got it wrong twice with me."

Sirius blinked for a moment. "I always forget you know basically nothing about wizarding stuff."

"Hey!" Harry cried defensively. "Not my fault."

"Didn't mean it as an accusation, but if you want some summer reading that might be a good topic. Learn about wizarding laws and culture. Even though I hate the stuff, might be useful for you considering how much crud you have go through," replied Sirius calmly. "But moving to your question. Underage detection uses the Trace, which gets cast on every British magical child. It detects magic being done around you; not what you cast. Essentially, it only work for muggle-borns, or if a wizarding kid casts in a muggle area. Makes sense, considering the biggest reason for the Trace is so that muggles don't find out about us."

Harry took a moment to process this. "So if I cast something in Diagon Alley, I wouldn't get in trouble?"

"Well, unless an Auror saw you," replied Sirius.

"Fair, but how about here? With all the wards and adults casting magic, couldn't I cast magic here?" replied Harry, getting excited.

Sirius let out a sigh and gave Harry a slightly more focused look. "Yes, you could cast magic here without getting in trouble with the Trace. Nevertheless, there is a reason we aren't exactly giving you magic and defense lessons everyday."

"Why not!" replied Harry a bit angrily. "I definitely bloody need them!"

"Rest is good for you Harry. That's the second reason for the underage restriction on magic. Though it is very little understood, it's been found that continuously using magic before you are fully grown can have negative effects on your development. With the underage restriction, you go to Hogwarts or whatever magical school, use your magic constantly for most of the year, and then use summer to allow your magic and body to adjust and relax. I don't understand the exact reasons and magic behind all of it, and I know that the negative effects don't always happen, but it is a better safe than sorry type of situation."

"Oh," answered Harry, before replying sheepishly. "Sorry about getting worked up."

Sirius just smiled. "No problem. Besides, you have been off Hogwarts for a couple months now, so I think you can start casting some simple charms if you want. We can work on the most basic stuff that'll be in your upcoming year, or other charms that you may not necessarily learn at Hogwarts, like the De-Wrinkle Charm. It'll help you shake the rust off without pushing you too far."

Harry just beamed.

* * *

Harry finally awoke the morning of July 31st after a night's sleep that wasn't marred by nightmares. He had slept in; it will nearly 11 in the morning. Harry hadn't been awake for more than a few minutes when a hyper black shaggy dog came bounding into the room and jumped on his bed, licking Harry's face.

"Good morning to you too, Padfoot!" laughed Harry. He tended to call Sirius "Padfoot" when he was in his Animagus form.

The dog jumped off the bed and transformed back. Sirius quickly pulled out a small cylinder from his pocket and fired it in the air. There was an enormous –bang- and the firework traced the words "Happy Birthday" into the air in sparkly green lettering.

"Good Morning and Happy Birthday Harry!" said Sirius, grinning mischievously. "Now hurry up and get dressed and get downstairs, there are things to be done!" he said as he bounded out of the room.

Harry got dressed quickly, excited for his birthday for one of the few times in his life. Sirius had been hinting about it for a week now, and had taken to glaring playfully at Harry anytime Harry tried to tell him he didn't need to do anything.

Harry walked downstairs and into the entry hall. While still rather depressing looking, the efforts of the inhabitants could clearly be seen; the place at least no longer looked dangerous and Sirius had started draping Gryffindor banners over the darker decorations they couldn't figure out how to remove. He walked to the kitchen and pulled open the door, a blast of noise greeting him.

Even though Harry knew in the back of his mind that this was just part of his birthday, he still whipped his wand out of his pocket on instinct. As the noise died down and he looked around he heard Mad-Eye yell, "GOOD POTTER, CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" approvingly. Moments later he was engulfed in a hug from Hermione.

"Happy Birthday Harry! Dumbledore brought me here and I'm so glad to see you and sorry I didn't write but my parents took me on a surprise trip to Greece and I didn't have an owl so I hope you aren't mad at me. Greece was fascinating though there were so many interesting ruins and sights to see. I heard about the attack from Ron are you okay how are you and have you been sleeping, oh and I bought you a book on coping to help," blurted Hermione in one breath. Harry didn't even register all the words she was speaking so quickly.

"Breathing is good Hermione. And it's great to see you too," he said smiling. Sirius stepped over and extracted Harry away from Hermione.

"C'mon kiddo! Eat some food, drink some butterbeer and have some fun! It's your birthday!" putting a comical birthday hat on Harry before he could protest. "Isn't it a little early to start a party," Harry asked Sirius. "Nonsense, we are going to party until we drop!" Sirius responded before he pulled Harry deeper into the room, which was filled with the Weasleys, a dozen Order members had gotten to know over the previous two weeks, Remus Lupin, and Hermione.

The party went for hours. The elves appeared with a massive red and gold iced birthday cake mid afternoon. The twins managed to swap the birthday candles with some that wouldn't go out, no matter how hard Harry blew or even when Remus doused them in water. "The beginnings of your investment, dear partner," they had told him.

Harry was blown away by his birthday gifts. Hermione and Ron had stuck to form with a homework planner and Chudley Cannon's gear respectively, but many of the Order members' gifts seemed to be immensely useful. Mad-Eye gave him a wand holster that was charmed to prevent his wand from being summoned, yelling about "constant vigilance" as Harry when unwrapped it. Kingsley gave him an illustrated book of defensive spells and curses, while Bill and Charlie both chipped in for a pair of tough dragonhide boots charmed to grow with his feet. Emmeline Vance and Nymphadora Tonks teamed up to give him a stuffed Hungarian Horntail and promised to take him to get a tattoo of one if he ever wanted it. Harry blushed spectacularly while Sirius feigned being hurt when they told him, "It would make you an even bigger hit with the ladies than Sirius." Remus gave him a nicely framed photo of his parents from their wedding, which nearly brought Harry to tears. He ended up receiving gifts from every guest, which almost embarrassed Harry as he barely knew some of them and was still not used to receiving presents.

The party finally wound down around 5 o'clock and the guests trickled out, all stuffed and sore from laughing. The Weasleys were some of the last to leave, Mrs. Weasley shepherding them all to the fireplace after giving Harry one of her effusive hugs. Once everyone was gone, Sirius wrapped an arm around Harry and said, "Now it's time for my present," grinning mischievously.

Harry automatically answered; "You didn't have to get me anything Sirius, the party was more than enough," but Sirius raised a hand.

"I still have years of birthdays to make up for, so quiet you," Sirius replied with a fake glare. He led Harry to a room he had never been in; it appeared to be some sort of storage room with filled with boxes. In the middle a black sheet was covering something large and rather oddly shaped.

"This if the first part of your present," Sirius said as he walked over to the hidden present. "You can't really use it yet, but once you can I'm sure you will love it and makes you look like a bad-ass," Sirius said with a huge smile. Harry knew it was going to be spectacular.

"I give you," Sirius began with a flourish, "Juliet!" He then ripped the sheet off, revealing a large black motorcycle.

Harry's jaw dropped. "Sirius! You can't give me that!" Harry felt it was too big a gift for him that he definitely didn't deserve it.

"I can and I am, I'll even teach you how to ride it once everything gets sorted," he said smiling, clearly pleased with his godson's reaction. "Now for the second part of your gift," said Sirius, clapping his hands together before unshrinking a wrapped rectangle from his pocket and handing it to Harry. It was thick book titled _The Animagus Transformation_.

"Remember when I said your mother would hex me into oblivion if I didn't nag you about your homework. Well your father would be sorely disappointed if I ignored Marauder tradition and didn't teach you to become an Animagus. You can start reading through that this year and we can start working on it next summer," said Sirius.

Harry was speechless. After years of the Dursleys, it was hard to imagine that someone would care about him so much and be willing to do so much for him. That there was someone that would love him like a parent. He walked over to Sirius and engulfed him in a hug, tears of happiness and even relief running down his face. Harry knew that this moment was going to be memory he used to fuel his Patronus spell.

* * *

**Review! Please**


	3. Conversations

**Disclaimer: Not mine, etc. etc.**

**A/N: Here is probably the first chapter where I have significantly reworked a section or two. Thanks for everyone who is following, and especially reviewing, I really appreciate it!. I'm trying to catch up to where I was in my old version as quickly as possible to start showing you the new material (already at least partially written, completely outlined). So please review! **

* * *

**Chapter 3: Conversations and Confrontations**

"Ahhh, this is just too fucking complicated" grumbled Xander.

He was sitting outside Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour, which he had found was well positioned to survey Diagon Alley, not to mention Xander rather enjoyed lemon sherbet. It was mid-August and so far he had made negligible progress in finding Pettigrew. He felt his plan was solid; track followers of Voldemort until they meet up with Pettigrew or gave an idea where he might be hiding and then make the grab. Unfortunately, figuring out who Voldemort's followers was turning out to be more difficult than he had expected. Xander knew a number of names of Death Eaters, of course, but almost all of them were imprisoned in Azkaban. They wouldn't be leading him to anyone anywhere.

Xander chewed on the inside of his cheek as he once more perused a small leather notebook he kept. He was staring at two columns he had written out. In one column were the names of all the people he had recognized during his long hours of sitting and watching in Knockturn Alley, many of them Xander suspected of being Voldemort's recruits. There had been a few dark bounty hunters he had recognized (dark meaning they would take non-government and 'kill only' contracts), a couple black market Curse-breakers he knew only by reputation and description, and a handful of wanted criminals that Xander had recognized from bounty lists. There were a little over a dozen names under that column.

Xander had marveled a bit at the dichotomy presented by Knockturn Alley and Diagon alley. "One is as seedy and sketchy as the other is clean and safe," thought Xander. It was unlike most other magical sectors he had seen; the magical portions of cities like Delhi, Beirut, Moscow, Tokyo, and Mexico City had their safe areas and dangerous areas but they ran together much more than in London.

The other column was filled with the names of suspected Death Eaters from the first war that had avoided prison. This was the list that causing most of Xander's problems. The names on the first list weren't particularly useful at this point. Even though Pettigrew had met with Raine's fugitive, he doubted Pettigrew did that often as Xander thought he was probably in Voldemort's inner circle, having served so long. Additionally, a supposedly dead man showing his face in front of some of the stronger dark bounty hunters he had noticed would probably give away more information than Voldemort wanted to reveal to unknown quantities. Finally, while Xander knew he was very skilled, making a grab at Pettigrew while he met a couple of the more dangerous wizards he had observed would be vastly more difficult and dangerous than making the grab when Pettigrew was alone or with an unsuspecting British wizard.

Thus, Xander knew he needed the names of the Death Eaters that had run free for the last 15 years. Unfortunately, that list seemed either implausibly small or laughably large, depending on whom Xander asked. Xander had tried casually asking around at the bar of the Leaky Cauldron, and had incited a near riot. One portly man, who he later found out was some minor bureaucrat in the Ministry, insisted that, "Black is the only follower of You-Know-Who still free," while a rather drunk witch seemed to believe that dozens of them had fled to Iceland.

Xander looked through the names on the second column. It still contained nearly 90 names. Some of them seemed ridiculous, like Ludo Bagman. Xander had actually tailed him when someone insisted he believed that Bagman had been part of Voldemort's inner circle. Instead, Xander wasted a day following an enthusiastic but slightly idiotic sports fanatic; Xander thought the most important 'inner circle' Bagman had ever been a part of was probably a poker group. Other names seemed likely but presented their own problems, like Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy. From what he could gather, it seemed extremely probable that both were Death Eaters, but they were also unfortunately borderline untouchable. Snape was a professor at Hogwarts with Dumbledore vouching for him, while Lucius Malfoy seemed very powerful politically and Xander wasn't sure just how much trouble his ICW medallion could get him out of. Those were two bridges he was only going to cross if he absolutely had to.

Xander briefly considered going to the Ministry and the DMLE. He knew they would have the information he needed in some form or another; the problem was actually getting it from them. 'They already aren't being that cooperative, I doubt I'd make any friends going back and asking about all the other Death Eaters they screwed up on' Xander thought. No, going back to the Ministry was not an option.

Xander exhaled deeply while scratching out Ludo Bagman's name and putting a small 'x' next to Snape's and Malfoy's. 'What I need is someone from the last war who knows the Death Eater structure or someone who knows the legal cases from 15 years ago, someone who can sort through these names and point me at the useful ones' Xander thought as he set the notebook down at the table, 'Preferably both.'

At that moment, Xander looked up from his notebook to see the answer to his problems in a standard bodyguard stance at the entrance of Flourish and Botts, watching alertly as a troupe of redheads entered the bookstore. Xander stood up and discreetly cast a number of glamour charms so that he appeared to be in his mid-20s before striding over towards Mad-Eye Moody.

* * *

Alastor Moody was not a happy man. He hadn't been a particularly happy man in a long time; being trapped in your own trunk by a Death Eater for a year and the resurrection of Voldemort would do that. Nevertheless, even within his normal baseline of unhappiness today he was particularly unhappy. Molly Weasley had hysterically insisted after the last Order meeting two nights ago that some of the members of the Order help her escort her kids to Diagon Alley to pick up school supplies. Mad-Eye had immediately shot her down, saying it was a poor use of resources and that her kids were not a high priority target like Potter and thus didn't need Order protection duty.

This had only driven Molly so hysterical that some observing Order members thought she might have done the impossible and become more paranoid than Mad-Eye. The youngest male Weasley also had the unfortunate timing of entering the room as Mad-Eye spoke, looking rather cross when Mad-Eye said that Potter was a high-value target.

Dumbledore finally stepped in and acquiesced to Molly's demands, which meant Mad-Eye was leading Vance, Tonks, and Diggle on glorified baby-sitting duty.

"If you count the fact that Arthur, Molly, Bill, and Charlie are all also here and those twins are of age, we have 10 people guarding two damn kids. I don't think Fudge is even this bloody well protected," grumbled Moody under his breath as he swept Diagon Alley, looking for any signs of danger, before following the group into Flourish and Blotts. Even if he thought this was a waste of time, Mad-Eye was still a professional, and was still going to follow proper protocol.

Once he had stepped inside, he started barking orders while taking in the surroundings. "Shacklebolt, Bill, Diggle, Tonks; each of you take a corner of the room. In case of attack the closest three will collapse on our marks while the furthest one will find an escape route. Go," ordered Mad-Eye gruffly. They followed the orders wordlessly; they knew Mad-Eye was in a poor mood.

Mad-Eye then turned to rest of the group. "Alright, Charlie, Vance, Molly; take the youngest two and get your books. Arthur and I will take the twins. Let's try to finish this in ten minutes."

Molly started to speak, "Shouldn't we stay together," she questioned, looking slightly frantic at the idea of her children wandering away from her.

"No! Too big a target and harder to defend, now go!" barked Mad-Eye. Molly didn't look happy. "But…" she began but didn't get anywhere as Mad-Eye cut her off.

"Dammit Molly, you wanted protection and I'm doing it, this is standard procedure so get moving. That is a _direct order_," Mad-Eye growled. Order member or not, he wasn't about to let Molly Weasley tell him how to do his job, especially when she didn't have a clue what she was talking about.

"C'mon mum, it'll be fine. Let's get going, I wanna look at the Quidditch books," said Ron, pulling on his mother's arm. Molly finally acquiesced and was led away by her two youngest children, Charlie and Emmeline Vance trailing behind.

Mad-Eye followed Arthur and the twins as they went to the Transfiguration section. 'The youngest boy finally did something right,' though Mad-Eye to himself.

His opinion of the youngest Weasley boy wasn't particularly high; he thought he had a bad case of jealousy of the Potter boy along with a mild case of idiocy.

"Why the bloody hell would anybody be jealous of a kid whose chances of surviving the next few years are as slim as my wand?" muttered Mad-Eye so only he could hear as they walked to the Charms section. The group quickly moved section to section and gathered their books; even the twins weren't going to make any trouble with Mad-Eye around. Once done, they began heading for the till to pay for the books. The bookstore wasn't particularly full, probably about a dozen customers scattered through the stacks of books. As Mad-Eye turned towards the register just in time to hear Ron scream, "Bloody Hell!" while his mother admonished, "Ronald! Language!" as someone ran into him, causing him to drop his books. Mad-Eye moved on instinct, wand out he began closing the distance, motioning for Bill to close in.

Mad-Eye began sizing up the man who had run into Ron. He seemed to be in his mid-20s, well built, and was wearing jeans, leather boots, and a hooded leather jacket. Though he looked pretty normal, the leather jacket set off alarm bells in Mad-Eye's mind, 'A jacket like that in the summer heat doesn't make much sense.'

What the man did next completely surprised Mad-Eye. He bent down, picked up one of the books Ron had dropped, and handed it to him before turning and looking at Mad-Eye right in the eye. "Sorry about that," the man began, "Completely my fault, if I could, I would like to buy you all ice cream at the shop across the street," finished the man.

Mad-Eye vaguely recognized the accent and the cadence of his voice; something was going on. He finally noticed the subtle hints of a glamour charm around the man's face as the youngest Weasley male said, "Alright, I'll take some ice cream!" while Bill tried to cut his brother off and politely decline. Mad-Eye activated his magical eye to strip away the glamours from his vision as Shacklebolt and Tonks came jogging up, putting themselves between the Weasleys and the man, who Mad-Eye finally recognized.

"That'll be fine sir, and I'm going to have to ask you to back off," started Kingsley coolly.

"I really must insist," the man replied, equally coolly, "I feel some ice cream would be great, we can all learn something _new _and _beneficial_" he finished, speaking the last words directly at Mad-Eye.

Tonks then decided to step in, turning her hair an aggressive red colour, "Listen buddy, ice cream's great and all but you are going to have to back off or I'm…"

Mad-Eye finally put the pieces together. "Ice cream sounds like a great idea, let us pay and then we will follow you right over to Florean's," he said.

The reaction from the rest of the adults in the group was pure shock. Shacklebolt looked like he had just been slapped, Tonks was simply gaping, and Dedalus Diggle actually fell over. Mad-Eye? Ice Cream? While on a mission?

"Mad-Eye, what the hell…we need to get back," started Shacklebolt as he was the first to come to his senses.

Mad-Eye finally ripped his eyes away from the stare down he was having with the bounty hunter he recognized from the his stop in at the Ministry a few weeks ago.

"Kingsley, shut it and follow orders. We are getting ice cream. Let's get the Weasleys rung up. Go!" growled out Mad-Eye, leaving no room for argument. Kingsley just nodded while Ginny and the twins looked confused, while Ron was completely oblivious to the situation.

Mad-Eye just shook his head, "Maybe more than a mild case of idiocy with that one" he just thought.

* * *

Xander was now sitting at a corner table with Mad-Eye and a tall black Auror that now knew was called Kingsley. Most of the other adults that had been with Mad-Eye were seated at a table just across the little outdoor seating area, watching as the redhead children ate ice cream, courtesy of Xander. Xander noticed that two of the non-redheaded adults had taken watch positions around the alley, and were looking at him suspiciously.

Xander was snapped out of his observations by Mad-Eye's voice. "What do you want?" the Master Auror growled roughly.

Xander turned his attention to the one called Kingsley. "Who's he and does he need to be here," Xander asked coolly.

Kingsley looked as if he was about to speak but was cut off by Mad-Eye, "Auror. He doesn't but he won't blab about this if that's your worry. Now out with it."

Xander nodded, what he wanted wasn't illegal or classified, and it would be easier to deal with the added presence than make a scene. Xander pulled out his notebook and yanked out the page that had the two columns of names. Using his wand, he duplicated the two columns back on a fresh page of the notebook before taking the old page and ripping it in half. He slid the half that had the 90ish names of who Xander thought were possible British Death Eaters to Mad-Eye.

Mad-Eye placed the paper between him and Kingsley as they both read through it. "That's a list of names I found of possible Death Eaters that escaped prison or death during the first war. I think we can both agree that it's on the long side and that your head of the Department of Magical Sports, Bagman, isn't any Dark Arts master, yes?" Both men nodded, Kingsley grinning slightly.

"Alright, but what does that have to do with us," asked Mad-Eye, narrowing his eyes.

"Information swap," Xander said simply. Kingsley looked confused while Mad-Eye suddenly looked very interested.

"What for what?" replied the old Auror.

"You give me the names of the Death Eaters that got away last time and have been running free. Mark which ones you think are part of his inner circle, which ones you think are skilled, and which are well connected politically. In return, you get this piece of paper," Xander said as held up the other half of the page he ripped out, which contained second grouping of names.

"And tell me kid, why do I want that second piece of paper?" asked Mad-Eye.

Xander glared a little at the 'kid' comment before saying. "It's some of the fish that have been pulled in by the _Lordly_ fisherman we discussed last time," said Xander.

He was purposefully cryptic, all he knew was that the other man was an Auror and wasn't sure if he would reporting this to his bosses who were denying Lord Voldemort's return. Xander didn't feel like pushing any political buttons he didn't have to. Fortunately, Kingsley was utterly confused, his eyes darting back and forth between Xander and Mad-Eye.

Mad-Eye, on the other hand, looked like Christmas had come early when he figured out what Xander said. "Done. Got a quill and some paper?" Mad-Eye asked while grinning. Xander tossed him a muggle ballpoint pen (much easier to keep in a pocket) and a sheet from his notebook. About five minutes later Mad-Eye slid the paper back to Xander. It contained about 30 names.

"The numbers 1-10 indicate who I think would be toughest in duel, 10 being the weakest. A capital 'I' means I think they are in the inner circle. A capital 'P' means political power, which you'll notice a lot of," Mad-Eye said quickly.

Xander nodded; it was exactly the information he needed and would save him a lot of time. He grabbed the ballpoint pen and scribbled a few things on his sheet before tossing it to Mad-Eye.

"'C' is for Curse-breaker, 'B' for bounty-hunter though they are more like assassins, and 'W' is for wanted criminals. All seen within Knockturn Alley."

Mad-Eye glanced through the list quickly before slipping it in his pocket. Standing, the he gave a quick nod and a gruff "Thanks" before walking off. Xander nodded in return and pocketed his notebook along with his new list of names before getting up and walking to the Leaky Cauldron.

The two experienced professionals left a shell-shocked Kingsley sitting there thinking, "What in the bloody name of Circe just happened?" before Mad-Eye started yelling at him to get moving.

* * *

For the blissful weeks between arriving at Grimmauld Place and a few days after his birthday Harry's psyche had been on a honeymoon. Being removed from the Dursleys and spending his days living moments he should have had during his childhood with his incredibly fun godfather temporarily transformed Harry in a gleeful eight or nine year old. Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. This period where Harry managed to banish most of the events of the outside world came to a screeching halt in the first few weeks of August, thanks to the _Daily Prophet_.

Harry had managed to convince Dumbledore to allow Hermione to come over and an Order member, he thought it was Dedalus Diggle, had gone and fetched her. The plan was for just a calm day of catching up, exploring the house, and talking about the upcoming school year. Unfortunately, the latest _Daily Prophet_ as they had finally reported Harry's near assassination, forcing Harry out of his bubble.

"They aren't all that mean in this one mate," said Ron.

"They didn't really have a choice," replied Hermione, "it's pretty hard to make an assassination attack look bad."

"True, though it still doesn't really matter if they keep printing lies about Voldemort," shot back Harry a bit crankily.

"They'll come around sooner or later," Ron replied with a shrug, "I'm sure the Order is doing all they can for now."

The three of them briefly sat in silence, as Harry continued to peruse the article, while Ron looked at the sports section. Harry glanced up to see Hermione staring at him peculiarly before she hastily schooled her facial features.

"Hermione?" Harry shot at her with a questioning, but friendly tone.

Hermione took an audible breath. "How are you feeling, though, Harry?"

"Err, fine?" replied Harry slightly confused. "Do I look ill or something?"

"I meant about the attack and the tournament and all of that? How are you coping with all of that? I've read that you should talk things out, but that it should be on your own schedule, but that Ron and I should be here to provide positive reinforcement through the situation and…"

Before she could pick up too much steam, Ron cut off Hermione's monologue.

"Bloody Hell Hermione, Harry's a bloke. He doesn't need any of that touchy-feely crap," Ron exclaimed. He backed down rather quickly, however, once he saw the stormy look on Hermione's face.

"Look guys," Harry quickly interjected, heading off Hermione. "I'm fine. I'm not dead, I'm not at St. Mungo's, and I'm not at the Dursleys. Could things be a lot better? Yeah, but at this point I'd rather not talk about it."

"Okay, but just let us know. The books I've read really said that if we talked about it…" began Hermione.

"I get it Hermione," interrupted Harry, getting a little heated, "and I don't really care what the bloody books say, we are just going to leave it."

A brief, awkward silence ensued. Ron wasn't saying anything as his initial brief foray into the conversation had ended poorly. Hermione, meanwhile, seemed to have gotten the message, though Harry could tell it was taking a lot of her self-control not to follow through on her books advice.

"So Ron, how did the Cannons do?" asked Harry, trying to change the subject.

"Lost by ten points," Ron replied bitterly. Harry smirked; though a lot was a mess in the world, one could always count on the Chudley Cannons losing, and Ron to know the exact score.

* * *

"Well, if you were using one of the homework planners I got you, you would know exactly how far along with your summer work you were," harrumphed Hermione.

"Lay off it Hermione! We still have weeks! I'll get it done!" shot back Ron.

Harry took off his classes and massaged his eyes, hoping for some relief from the headache he was starting to develop. He had always been the mediator between Ron and Hermione; they were two completely different people who were also pretty quick to snap. It wasn't something he had ever minded previously _per se_, but at this point, Harry could feel his own temper rising. Was it really so much to ask for one day without the two of them snapping at each other? Looking up at his two best friends continuing to snap back and forth, the final thread restraining Harry's temper finally snapped

"WILL YOU BOTH JUST SHUP UP FOR ONCE!" yelled Harry, finally fed up.

* * *

"Alright, what's the problem?" asked Sirius as sat himself in a chair in Harry's bedroom the next evening. Harry just responded with a glare.

Sirius frowned a bit, "Okay, dumb question, I'll admit. But ever since Ron and Hermione left you've looked drained and been cranky as hell. And you spent your entire day today locked in your room. How about you tell me what you are thinking about?"

"You mean other than the fact that the raging madman who killed my parents, murdered a classmate in front of me, used me in some screwed up ritual to revive himself, tried to kill me, and is still trying to kill me? Oh and that the wizarding world thinks I'm a delusional liar because of it?" Harry spat out. The good mood that Harry had been in every since leaving the Dursley had finally evaporated after lashing out at his friends earlier. He wasn't sure what was the bigger cause; how irritating Ron and Hermione had been, or the guilt he felt for yelling at them.

Sirius sighed and looked down, cracking his knuckles. Harry could tell he was trying to pick his words carefully. "Look, I'll be blunt. Yes things are shitty for you and I wish I could fix it but I can't. But sitting up here all day isn't exactly improving things, is it?"

Harry didn't move for a moment before he shook his head. "Alright, then let's figure this out. What are you thinking about the whole situation," said Sirius a bit more confidently.

A tense silence filled the air for a solid minute before Harry spoke, "It's a lot of frustration and anger I guess. Frustration at the world and Fate for making my life so far from normal, and frustration with myself because I feel so weak and have no idea how I'm going to make it through all of this alive. Anger at myself for letting Cedric die, and anger at people like Dumbledore for not doing more, and making so many decisions for me. To top it off, Ron and Hermione sort of got on my last nerve today."

Sirius was biting his bottom lip. Four years fighting a war and over a decade in Azkaban had certainly not prepared Sirius for a situation like this one.

"Alright let's go through it one by one. First, you honestly have every right to be frustrated and angry. However, you shouldn't be angry with yourself. There was nothing you could do about Cedric, people die in wars and it's unavoidable. It's not easy to forgive yourself. I still don't, but you have to at least try, because it does make things better."

Sirius sat up a little straighter, he was getting on a roll, "Second, yeah it's going to be tough for you, and you are probably going to front and centre in the war that's coming. But sitting in your room alone isn't exactly doing anything to prepare you, right?" Harry nodded; his godfather was somehow making a lot of sense.

"Good. As I told you before, you can't practice tough magic this summer, but we can at least go through a lot of the books in the library and look up useful spells that you can practice when you get back to school. You can also ask a lot of the Auror Order members for tips. Maybe don't ask Mad-Eye unless you want your arse kicked though…" Sirius said laughing a little. The tension broke a bit and even Harry grinned.

"Finally, well, remember you always, _always,_ have me to talk to. But I can see why you might want someone your age and all, even if everyone thinks I've still got a 16 year old's brain. What's up between you, Ron, and Hermione?" asked Sirius.

Harry sat up and ran his hand through his hair. He wasn't quite sure what to say. Ron and Hermione were his best friends, no, his _only_ friends. Nevertheless, he couldn't ignore the fact that they hadn't exactly been ideal friends lately.

"Look Ron and Hermione are amazing and my best friends. Ron is my best mate and Hermione is pretty much my sister, but…" Harry stopped for a moment, struggling to find the words, "I know no one is perfect, but things just seem to repeat over and over with them. And while I know I could go talk to them, I also know them well enough that it wouldn't be the type of conversation I want to have."

Sirius looked a bit confused and intrigued all at one. "What do you mean "repeat over and over"?" he asked.

"They are constantly at each other's throats to the point where it feels like I'm taking an extra class in diplomacy by hanging out with them. Ron always says something tactless while Hermione thinks she can answer everything from a book. I mean I know they both mean well and all, but it gets annoying. I mean Ron said because I'm a bloke so I don't need the 'touchy-feely' stuff, but he has no idea what's going on with me. Doubt he would be all that receptive if I did need someone to talk to."

"And Hermione?" asked Sirius quietly.

"I'm not sure how much of a chat I would have with Hermione. It would probably be more of a lecture on all the things she has ready about mental stress and coping, quotes and all," quipped Harry.

Sirius looked pensive, "That isn't all, is it?"

The experience was clearly cathartic for Harry; he was finally letting out a lot of thoughts that he had trapped away because he never had someone to talk to. "It feels like every year the same types of things cause things to get...kinda…well strained between the three of us"

"What types of things, Harry?" Sirius pressed gently.

Harry shrugged. "Ron gets jealous at me because of the attention I get even though I don't want it. It almost cost us our friendship last year when he accused me of entering my name in the Goblet of Fire. I forgave him and we are good but it still hurt," Harry finished.

"I feel like I can guess for Hermione, but how about you tell me." Sirius said while nodding.

"I think with Hermione, most people can see she is obsessed with books and facts. Like every year when something crazy is happening she tries to just solve it with research or with the rules when they don't always work. And then she sometimes gets crazy mad at me when I don't follow what she says. She can be really controlling," explained Harry.

Sirius quickly shot out a question, "Are they still your best friends?"

Harry answered immediately, "Of course! I mean yeah they have their faults but so does everyone. Ron always comes through in the end, like first year, and Hermione is absolutely brilliant and has been really helpful. I'm not sure I would have gotten through the tournament without her." Ron and Hermione were far from perfect, Harry knew, but they were still his first and best friends and he would defend them until the Gates of Hell.

Sirius leaned forward in his chair and started lightly chewing on his fingers. It was one of those habits that Harry thought he carried over from his dog form.

"Harry, who else would you consider a friend at Hogwarts?" Sirius finally asked.

Harry opened his mouth to answer and then closed it rather quickly. His mind was running through names, "Seamus? Dean? I know them but I wouldn't say friends, we don't really hang out together. Neville? Not really either, I don't know him that well. Fred and George? They are older and I only really know them through Ron. Same with Ginny."

Sirius frowned a bit when he saw this was actually a difficult question for his godson. "Your roommates? Your Quidditch teammates, maybe? Or that girl you went to the Yule Ball with?" he asked.

Harry looked up a bit confused. "Erm… I'm friendly with my roommates but not really friends. Then, I mean, I've always been the youngest on the Gryffindor Team, which makes it kind of weird. And Parvati? I mean I know her, but we aren't friends, especially after the Yule Ball."

Sirius frowned a bit again.

"How about people in other Houses? Some 'Claws or 'Puffs? Maybe a Slytherin even?" prodded Sirius.

Harry actually looked shocked at the question. "I talk to some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs a bit but not really, Gryffindors stick together a lot. Don't think I've ever talked to a Slytherin in a friendly way, all my experiences are usually with Malfoy and his cronies, and they definitely haven't given me a reason to talk to them."

Sirius leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. Harry was feeling nervous, like he had done something wrong or made some mistake. Harry could feel his whole body tense up as Sirius finally started speaking.

"Look, Harry, Ron and Hermione are your best friends and having people like that is great. Merlin knows that your father, Remus, and I were as close as could be at Hogwarts. The Rat too, unfortunately." Sirius said the last bit with a furious scowl before continuing, "Anyway, we were best friends, but we also branched out and did stuff with plenty of other people, Claws and Puffs included. Hell, I even dated a couple Slytherins in my time and I don't regret it." Sirius got a wistful look in his eyes. Harry knew his godfather's memories were probably centred on broom cupboards at the moment.

"Well what I'm trying to say is," Sirius started, trying to get back on track, "you should try branching out, making more friends. Ron and Hermione can stay your best friends of course, but it seems like you could use some other points of view in your life. Plus, with the war coming, the more friends and allies you can have, the better."

Harry thought about it for a moment. What his godfather had said actually made a lot of sense, not just the part about friends either. He loved Ron and Hermione to death, but he agreed that having more friends probably couldn't hurt. Harry wasn't sure how exactly he was going to make more friends when he was thought of as a delusional liar but that was an issue for another time.

Harry finally looked up at his godfather, "Jeez Padfoot, when did you get so….serious?"

Sirius lit up as Harry brought his right palm to his forehead; he had walked right into his godfather's favourite joke.

"Well that's because I am…"

"Don't finish that," Harry said quickly, cutting him off.

"'Kay, but was that all helpful? Feeling better?" asked Sirius frankly.

"It was great, Sirius, and I'm still not feeling great, but I am feeling much better. I'm also in definite agreement I should try to make more friends, maybe even in other houses," responded Harry.

Sirius responded jovially, "That's the spirit! Besides you don't want to limit yourself, you don't know what kind of _quality_ resides in the other houses!"

Harry just looked confused and responded with a very eloquent, "Huh?"

"You know, maybe you could explore the insides of some broom cupboards with some of your new female friends as a…erm…_bonding_ activity," said Sirius with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Harry suddenly turned beet red when he realized what Sirius was talking about. "Shut-up!" he exclaimed as he threw a pillow at Sirius, hitting him the face.

"Alright, alright I surrender! In the meantime let's get downstairs, the Weasleys should be here to move in for the rest of summer soon, and hopefully Ron won't do rile you up with Hermione gone," responded Sirius as he loped out of the room.

Harry got up and went to brush his teeth, letting the conversation he just had sink in. "My life is still terrible, but Sirius is right, locking myself in my room isn't exactly changing that. Might as well do _something_," thought Harry before following his godfather downstairs.

* * *

"For the last time, Sirius, you cannot come! It is far too dangerous!" said an exasperated Remus.

"Come on, no one is going to recognize a dog on a platform!" retorted Sirius. "It's not like all those bounty hunters know I'm an Animagus."

"It is not worth the _Kiss_ though! Also the Death Eaters know of your form because of Wormtail!" yelled Remus.

Harry nodded at Ron, as the redhead entered the kitchen yawning and sat down at the table. Both were barely paying attention to Sirius and Remus, their argument had been going on for days and the point was moot. Dumbledore and Mad-Eye had already forbidden Sirius from going and they weren't going to change their minds the morning of the Hogwarts Express.

"'ou ready?" asked Ron with his mouth full, as he was swallowing sausages.

"Yeah, packed last night. How about you?" Harry replied, finishing off his omelette.

"Nah, I'll finish after breakfast," said Ron as he reached for his orange juice.

They ate in relative silence for a few moments, Ron inhaling his food while Harry enjoyed a second helping of bacon one of the elves brought. Sirius' and Remus' argument had turned into a sort of background white noise.

"Harry…hello…Harry…Harry!" Harry jumped at Sirius' voice, realizing the two men were done arguing.

"Yeah Sirius, I'm here," Harry said looking up at his godfather.

Sirius looked a bit pensive, and Harry suddenly realized this was important. "Remus and I actually need to talk you before you head out to Hogwarts. Ron you might want to hear this too." Ron nodded and started semi-paying attention, which was about as good as one got when Ron was eating.

Sirius sighed, "Well we all know the Ministry isn't really a Harry Potter Fan Club right now, yes?" Harry and Ron nodded at what was a rather larger understatement.

"You also know they aren't exactly handing over any more awards to Dumbledore…" Sirius trailed off

Harry was getting slightly frustrated at being treated like he was nine. This was information they had been over plenty. "Out with it Sirius, what is it? It's not like they can do anything to me while I'm at Hogwarts, right?"

Harry saw the looks on Remus' and Sirius' faces and realized that was exactly what might be happening. "Bloody Hell, it's Hogwarts! Dumbledore still Headmaster, right?" Even Ron started looking at Remus and Sirius with a very expectant and almost fearful look.

Remus quickly started speaking, "No, no, Dumbledore and all your professors are still there. Fudge doesn't have the pull to get rid of Dumbledore at this point. This is more about your new DADA teacher…."

Sirius picked up where Remus left off, "Fudge _is_ trying to interfere at Hogwarts. He foisted this new teacher at Dumbledore. She's a Ministry official. She's also a…"

"Piece of bloody work" grumbled Remus. Harry was slightly startled; it was rare for Remus to insult someone.

"I was going to say she's a bitch, but that gets the point across," finished Sirius.

Harry and Ron looked at each other a bit nervously. They couldn't be putting someone _that_ bad in a school full of children?

"What exactly is she going to do? What can she do?" Harry asked.

Sirius glanced at Remus before speaking. "We aren't really sure. We just know she is probably going to make you and Dumbledore her targets. Find things to further discredit you two."

Remus picked up from there, "And make your lives miserable if she has a chance. From what we have gathered, though, she has no plans on really teaching defence. She is there on Fudge's behalf."

"So she is like a spy for the Ministry or something," said Ron between bites.

"It's a pretty good way to put it," Sirius responded.

"Why isn't she teaching us any defence? I mean how are people going to defend themselves if we aren't learning anything? All of our defence teachers except Remus have been a joke," asked Harry, his annoyance quickly growing at this unknown Ministry official.

"Thanks Harry," said Remus with a smile, "but remember, the Ministry still thinks there is no danger remember?"

"Still seems dumb, I mean what if we want to have a job that needs Defence and stuff," asked Ron. Harry nodded in agreement, it was a good point.

Remus and Sirius looked at each other before Sirius began speaking, "Well there is another reason we think she might not be teaching …Fudge has this crazy theory that Dumbledore could use Hogwarts as some sort of training ground to take over the Ministry…"

Harry and Ron looked at each other before they burst out laughing. "Alright guys," Harry said in-between laughs, "humour is great and all but this seems pretty serious. What's the actual reason?"

Sirius and Remus just looked at them with expressions that made it clear they weren't joking. Both Ron and Harry's jaws dropped before Ron exclaimed, "You can't be bloody serious! I don't even think Fred and George could come up with a story like that!"

Harry could only nod in agreement. He knew Fudge was an idiot, but this was making it seem like Crabbe or Goyle might be an improvement in the logic department.

"What we are trying to tell you two," said Remus, steering the conversation away from Fudge, "is to be smart. She is unfortunately quite…powerful…within the Ministry and can make life even more difficult for you, so try not to give her reason to," finished Remus.

Sirius picked up where he left off. "I agree. Normally I wouldn't say anything but you should try to keep your head down while you are there. I'm not saying don't stick to your wands," said Sirius, seeing Harry's slightly mutinous look, "but really she can make your life worse than it already is. You are going to be watched a lot closer and it will help your case with everyone if you don't give her a reason to twist anything. Think of her as a politically powerful and even more evil Rita Skeeter."

That comparison made Harry shudder a bit. He tried ignore public opinion about him, but it was impossible to be completely unaffected by it, and deep down he had hated the way people had looked at him after some of Skeeter's articles. If this woman was more powerful and even more evil than Skeeter, he could see why he would need to be careful.

"Alright, I get it. Try to think before I act, and watch out for this new evil Ministry drone posing as our DADA teacher," said Harry. Remus and Sirius looked a bit relieved that Harry wasn't fighting with them; they had been arguing with him constantly for a couple weeks about why he wasn't allowed at Order meetings and expected that to carry over to this discussion.

"Good," said Sirius, "You might want to get ready and do any last minute packing. You all are set to leave in an hour. The rest of the Weasleys should be up any moment."

"Then we should get out of here before Ginny and her morning self come in," grumbled Ron. Harry chuckled as he stood up, Ginny was horrendously cranky most mornings and Ron tended to take the brunt of it.

* * *

While Harry was heading back to his room at Grimmauld Place, Xander had already been awake for hours. First had come his physical workout; a 45-minute long run through Muggle London with ankle weights, followed by sets of one-armed push-ups, crunches, squats, and other calisthenics, followed by magical practice. He spent at bare minimum an hour a day working on his casting speed and spell accuracy while also practising new spells or magic. For the last few weeks, he had been working on his warding skills. He then Apparated back to his room at the Leaky Cauldron where he worked on the Mind Arts.

When Xander had discovered a few years prior how open an untrained mind was to attack, he had worked tirelessly to protect himself. The Mind Arts had three distinct forms. Occlumency classified the methods that alerted and protected one's mind from attack. Legilimency represented the techniques to break into another person's mind. The final form was Percipemency and was derived from proficiency in both Occlumency and Legilimency. Though this form really referred to a broad range of abilities that cropped up among those who mastered the other two forms, it most often referred to the ability to categorize the mind.

A Percipemens could delve into the parts of their mind that dealt with memory and in a way, 'reorganize' it for better understanding. Many authors claimed that true Percipemens could remember everything from their lives. While hypothetically true, no one had ever achieved that point because it was practically useless and generally unfeasible. A Percipemens has perfect recall of memories that are specifically categorized, which happens in two instances. The mind does this naturally for recent events and some instances the subconscious generally finds particularly important. A Percipemens can then take other memories and specifically categorize them while meditating. They then gain the ability view them similar to how one views a memory in a Pensieve or recall them while conscious.

Proficiency in Legilimency and Occlumency are required for Percipemency because Percipemency is actually the process of applying techniques from both Legilimency and Occlumency on one's own mind. Initially the mind naturally creates three specialized categories: one for important events, one for recent events, and one for everything else. These categories have been described by Mind Arts Masters as anything from boxes to doors to books; one particularly eclectic master described them as trees. A Percipemens simultaneously uses Legilimency to sort through the 'everything else' or 'recent events' categories for the memory and shifts it to a new category created by Occlumency. This process, while quick, depending on one's skill in Legilimency and Occlumency, was not instant and thus was the reason no one had ever completely organized their memories. For example, someone who became a Percipemens at the age of 55 would have 55years' worth of memories to sort through and categorize if they truly wanted perfect recall of their entire lives. They would likely spend at least a decade organizing mundane memories of meals and getting dressed to gain a truly organized mind.

It had taken Xander a full year of Occlumency training to reach the point where he felt he could defend against all but the strongest attacks. After that, it had taken another two years to acquire sufficient proficiency in Legilimency to be able to successfully attack another defended mind. About six months ago, Xander had finally broken through and achieved the basics of Percipemency.

So now Xander sat cross-legged on his bed, rapidly skimming through the previous day. He had created a specific category (in Xander's case they appeared as trunks) for Death Eaters. Right now he was sorting through and organizing his memories of tracking Yaxley and Macnair the previous day. After about 20 minutes, he finished and began dressing and disguising himself for another day of snooping around the Ministry. Today's planned disguise was for a mid-30s German businessman inquiring on import regulations for dragon hide. This would allow him to hang around the Department of International Magical Cooperation where Yaxley worked. He had overheard Yaxley telling some minor bureaucrat that he planned to have lunch with Lord Avery, who was Xander's real target for the day.

Avery and been one of five names, along with Malfoy, Nott, Parkinson, and Flint, that had been labelled as both 'Inner Circle' and 'politically powerful' on Mad-Eye's list. Xander knew that they would most likely also have the largest and most powerfully warded manors, and thus, would be the most likely locations for where Pettigrew was hiding out. He was hoping to follow Avery from his lunch back to the approximate location of his manor, where he could start discreetly poking around the wards to figure out where the Apparition point was on the property.

Xander's goal was to penetrate the Apparition points at each of the five manors of the prominent families under Voldemort, then set up watches and wait for Pettigrew to appear. Apparition points were not warded as strongly, as they needed to allow exit and entry of guests. Unfortunately with extensively warded properties "weak" was a relative term and they still fell under a host of compulsion and alarm wards while being part of the overall property's ward matrix i.e. generally Unplottable. He had discovered the location of Nott manor a week ago and it had taken him a full four days to pierce the wards around the Apparition point without triggering any alarms. He had set a charm on the area that would tell him how many different people entered and exited Nott Manor's Apparition point in a day, and was now hoping to locate Avery Manor.

As Xander walked down to the Leaky Cauldron to Floo to the Ministry, he mentally sighed. "Why do all these Death Eaters have to work at the Ministry…means I have to spend hours pretending like I care about forms and paperwork to follow them…might as well be torture."

* * *

Leaving Grimmauld Place for Platform 9 ¾ could best be described as organized disaster. Between Molly's hysterics, Fred and George's antics, and Tonks spilling pumpkin juice on Ginny, it was only through Mad-Eye's bellowing that they made it to the platform on time. They had travelled by Apparition with a guard of several Order members. Mad-Eye had Apparated Harry himself.

Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the Twins had managed to board the Hogwarts Express with a minimum of trouble. Harry had noticed a few odd stares but he generally hadn't been noticed in the all chaos. Harry and Ron had quickly settled themselves into a compartment while the other three Weasleys had gone to find their other friends. The Hogwarts Express' whistle had just sounded and Harry felt a gentle lurch as the train began moving.

"Where do you think Hermione is?" asked Ron; she usually would have met them by now.

"Probably doing prefect stuff, helping new kids and the like," replied Harry. Hermione's choice as prefect has been the most obvious one at Hogwarts. Ron and Harry and both shared a chuckle at Hermione's letter a couple weeks ago when she wrote that she had been surprised to receive it.

"Ugh, I hope she isn't too insufferable about that," quipped Ron.

Harry just gave Ron a pointed look.

"What, she deserves it, but she's gonna be even crazier and nag us more now," Ron said with a shrug.

"Just don't let her hear you say that," replied Harry, not denying that there may be some truth behind Ron's comment.

"Who you think is the other prefect?" asked Ron.

"No idea. It probably isn't Neville, and Seamus doesn't seem like the prefect type," said Harry.

At that moment the compartment door slid open to reveal a familiar bushy haired girl with a gleaming badge pinned on her robes.

"There you two are!" Hermione exclaimed, dragging her trunk into the compartment. She ran over and gave Harry and Ron hugs.

"So who's the other Gryffindor prefect, Hermione?" asked Harry, a bit curious. He secretly admitted to himself he would have liked to have got it, but realized that he had probably lost Gryffindor more points than anyone else in their year. "It's not my fault that Snape removes points for _breathing_," though Harry bitterly.

"Dean Thomas, I think he should be alright," responded Hermione.

"He's a good bloke. Pretty fair, don't get his legball obsession or whatever," said Ron while Harry nodded in agreement. Dean was pretty nice to everyone and didn't get in much trouble.

"How's he in classes? I don't really pay attention," asked Harry, interrupting Hermione who was about the correct Ron about "legball".

"He's above-average," Hermione replied. "The third best Gryffindor in our year and just outside the top 10."

"How the hell do you know these things?" Ron asked. Harry thought it was a good question. He didn't think the school published lists of these things.

Hermione shrugged, "The Ravenclaws that help Professor Flitwick with office work peek at his reports, and because he is a Head of House, he gets the rankings. They tell almost everyone else in Ravenclaw, since it's kind of a competition for them."

"Pff! Only Ravenclaws would compete over something stupid like good marks," said Ron, which only managed to offend Hermione.

"Getting good marks is not a bad thing Ron!" retorted Hermione. Harry noticed a couple of what looked like fourth years walk by the compartment and give him a strange look. "Looks like people believe the _Prophet_. Fantastic!" Harry sarcastically thought.

"Who is second in our year," asked Harry, trying to prevent anything from escalating. It seemed Harry's explosion only worked as a one-time stoppage; his two friends weren't going to change all that easily.

Hermione looking at Harry like he was being silly was one thing, but _Ron_ also doing so was almost offensive.

"C'mon mate, even I can guess that!" Ron said with a snort. Putting on a thoughtful air, he continued. "It might be the bloke who made a Patronus when he was 13?"

Harry quickly looked from Ron to Hermione incredulously, "_I'm _second?"

"Second in Gryffindor," responded Hermione. "And actually last year, you were sixth in our year even though you didn't take exams. You were always right around 11th or 12th because you did well in the practicals, but all the extra magic practice you did for the Tournament raised your marks." Now glaring at him, she continued. "You would be even higher if you weren't so sloppy with your homework and studied theory more,"

Any reflection Harry was about to do on this new information was interrupted by the opening of the compartment door. Harry knew who it was without even looking.

"Malfoy, do we really have to do this every year?" Harry asked while looking up.

The blond fifth year Slytherin was strutting into the compartment with an even bigger smirk than usual. Trailing behind were Crabbe and Goyle, who managed to grow even larger and become more troll-like than the previous year.

"I supposed I should save my time considering I might as well be talking to a dead man," said Malfoy.

"What's the supposed to mean?" Ron spat out.

Malfoy arrogantly raised his eyebrows at Ron; an action he knew would make the ginger even angrier. "Really, now? We all know Potter here is on borrowed time. At least the Dark Lord will be sending him to his parents and that duffer Diggory before too long."

Ron and Hermione now looked furious and Harry's jaw clenched. It was taking all his willpower not to curse Malfoy with a range of hexes he had learned last year. Ron started reaching for his wand, but Harry raised an arm to stop him.

"Insulting the dead? That's low, even for you!" screeched Hermione.

"What, Diggory?" Malfoy scoffed. "He was an insect that was in the way, got what he had coming. Something I'm sure you all," He motioned to Ron, Hermione, and Harry, "might want to remember."

Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling behind Malfoy while Ron and Harry had drawn their wands. They were both enraged and were moments from cursing Draco when a female voice cut through.

"Shut it Malfoy! You can go right to Hell where you belong!"

Harry turned his attention to the speaker who he immediately recognized from his classes due to her distinctive long auburn hair. Susan Bones was looking both absolutely furious and on the verge of tears. Behind her were two others, one boy and one girl, with what Harry recognized as Ravenclaw accents on their robes. The boy was fairly tall, with short brown hair and a fair complexion. The girl was of average height and had lighter brown hair pulled back into a bun. Both were glaring daggers at the Slytherins.

"I wouldn't talk to me like that, Bones," Malfoy threatened.

"Why damn not?" shot back the tall brown haired Ravenclaw.

"What's it to you, Boot? Defending blood traitors and," Malfoy looked towards Hermione with a sneer, "_Mudbloods._"

Susan Bones and the two Ravenclaws both gasped, speechless. Harry, however, had finally snapped. He bolted up and drew his wand with lightning speed, pointing it directly at Draco.

"Leave now, Malfoy. Or so help me, they won't even recognize you once I'm done." Harry spoke with a hard edge in his voice, rage billowing off him in waves.

Draco looked like he was about the respond but bit back his response when he saw the look of utter fury on Harry's face. He then started paling when he noticed Harry's hair moving slightly, as if caught in a small breeze, and the windows of the compartment rattling. Preservation instincts kicked in and Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle turned and pushed their way out of the compartment, shooting dark looks at everyone as they left.

Harry took a deep breath and brought his emotions under control. He lowered his wand and collapsed back into his seat. A thick silence filled the air as the six occupants of the car peered at each other awkwardly before Harry decided to try to fill the void.

"Erm…thanks for that," said Harry a bit nervously.

Susan Bones and the two Ravenclaws, who Harry now vaguely recognized from classes, perked up.

"No problem," started the one Harry knew Draco had called "Boot". "Right prat, that one is. By the way, though I know Hermione from Arithmancy and we have some classes together I should still introduce myself. Terry Boot at your service," Terry said warmly with a little mock salute.

"Oh, and I'm Mandy Brocklehurst," squeaked the brunette girl a bit shyly.

"Susan Bones," finished Susan with a giggle.

The tension was pretty much broken and the Gryffindor trio introduced themselves. As Harry introduced himself to Terry, Terry let out a laugh, "No offence mate. But I don't think you need to introduce yourself."

Harry scratched the top of his head and chuckled. "Yeah well, might as well be polite."

"So 'ou all are fifth years," garbled out Ron. His mouth was full from a chocolate frog he had pulled out of his pocket and decided to munch on.

"Ron! _Manners_!" yelled Hermione as the two Ravenclaws and Hufflepuff laughed.

Harry looked over at the standing trio thinking about Sirius' advice. Making more friends wasn't a bad idea, and the three of them already seemed to dislike Malfoy, so they were as good a place to start as any.

"You're welcome to have a seat if you want."

"Thanks, but we should probably be heading back to our compartment," responded Susan pleasantly.

"Aye, should be at Hogwarts pretty soon and Hannah, Padma, and Ernie will probably be wondering where we are," said Terry as he nodded his head before turning to the Gryffindor trio. "Pleasure to meet you all though, and see you at Hogwarts!"

Mandy and Susan both also said their goodbyes and soon the Gryffindors had the compartment to themselves once again.

"I have to go to the prefects meeting, but you two should get your robes on soon," said Hermione as she walked opened the compartment and walked out. "I'll be back before we get to Hogwarts though"

Harry and Ron just nodded. They waited until Hermione had left to slip on their robes.

"What did you think of those three?" asked Harry probingly to Ron.

Ron looked at Harry like he had grown another head. "Who, the Slytherins? They are ponces as usual"

"No, I meant Terry, Mandy, and Susan."

"Oh," said Ron with a shrug. "They're alright. Especially the 'Puff."

"Susan? Why 'especially her'?"

"A redhead who tells Malfoy to go to Hell is alright in my book," responded Ron.

Harry grinned. He could always count on Ron to make the simple judgements.

* * *

**A/N: In the last version, I was pretty disappointed with how I wrote Ron and Hermione. I'm not particularly big fans of their characters (Hermione is a fairly uncreative, annoying, bookworm, while Ron just comes off as a tactless, lazy idiot), but they do have their high points, and I wrote them out of my story too quickly and easily. I've tried to temper how I wrote them while still driving the plot where I want it to go. **

**Please Review!**


	4. By Logic and Magic

**A/N: I remember editing through the last chapter somewhat displeased with myself. It was a piece of crap, and now would merit an "Acceptable". This one, however, I was significantly happier with, and had very few edits. **

**Also: As far as pairings. There will be a pairing...eventually. But before that, Harry is going to do normal teenager things, which involves ogling at most vaguely attractive females near him. **

**Disclaimer: I'm just going to stop putting this here.**

* * *

**Chapter 4: By Logic and Magic**

"The Sorting Hat sure was weird this year," said Ron as he and Harry plopped down on two of the Gryffindor common room's big squashy armchairs. They had just come up from the Great Hall after the feast, which had been a little different than the previous year.

"Yeah, the Hat seemed to be almost begging for house unity," said Harry. "Though the new professor's speech was actually the weirdest part," he finished thoughtfully. After Sirius' warning, he had paid pretty close attention when the Ministry appointed professor had broken tradition and started speaking. She hadn't been particularly clear in her speech, but Harry didn't like what he had understood.

"The toad looking one? What did she say? Sounded like a bunch of nothing to me." Ron said with a shrug.

"That's because you don't actually _listen_ Ron!" chided Hermione as she joined them.

Ron gave her a slight glare, "I try to listen! It's not my fault it was bloody boring!"

"Well it was important! She made it clear the Ministry was going to interfere at Hogwarts!"

Harry just brought his palm to his face as his friends worked themselves into a fight again.

"Well don't worry about it Ron, it is nothing that Sirius and Remus didn't really tell us before." Harry then turned to Hermione, who was still looking a bit edgy, "How are the first years?"

"Yes, I showed them their rooms and tried to help them acclimate by answering some questions and telling them about classes and the castle. We have a lot of first years this year; it's as big of a year as the current third years. Almost twice as big as our year, so Dean and I have our work cut out. I already want to talk to him about setting up tutoring sessions."

Harry's curiosity got the best of him during Hermione rant, "Why is their year so big? Or all the years below us, for that matter, shouldn't they all be close to the same?"

"It's 'cause of you, mate," Ron responded.

"Huh? What do I have to do with it?" Harry responded puzzled. Hermione just gave him a particularly annoying look that told Harry she thought it was obvious.

"Not many families had kids during the war. When you defeated You-Know-Who last time everyone had a mad rush to have children and the years after ours are now significantly larger than ours," Hermione explained.

Harry nodded. It made sense; there were only 50 or 60 people in his year, yet the castle was massive. Harry realized his first year must have been half capacity or less as all the students at the time had been born during the last war.

Harry was broken out of his thoughts by Ron's growl, "What are you staring at?" he shot past Harry. Harry had been sitting facing away from the rest of the common room so he followed his friend's gaze and turned. He saw a few third years that he didn't particularly recognize staring at him with what Harry could best describe as trepidation. Once they saw Harry's gaze on them they tensed up and slinked away.

Harry sighed; he had hoped that at least Gryffindor house would stand by him, but he should have known better. They hadn't believed him with that gaudy cup spit his name out last year, so while he generally got along fine his housemates, he realized they weren't all the best of people.

"Wonder what that little twerp wanted," Ron said with a huff.

Hermione just rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, Harry. There are plenty of people that believe you."

"Like us, Harrikins!" said Fred and George as they bounded up to the trio, Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson trailing behind.

"We know…"

"You're crazy…"

"But we don't think you are actually nutters!" the twins finished together grinning before getting hit on shoulder by Katie and Angelina. Harry shot the two chasers a questioning look.

"Don't worry Harry, we completely agree with these two goofballs, even if they lack eloquence," said Angelina with a reproachful look at the twin. Harry could tell, however, her eyes were twinkling at the twins' antics.

"Yeah, I mean after last year we all know the _Prophet _is full of rubbish," said Katie as she crossed her arms on the back of Harry's chair to lean on it.

Someone off to Harry's left mumbled something Harry couldn't make out. A large lanky sixth year Harry vaguely recognized was sitting with a couple friends and furtively glancing in Harry's direction.

Katie immediately straightened up and glared in the sixth year's direction.

"Care to repeat what you said, Cormac?" she said with a viciousness that Harry didn't know she had.

"I said just because the _Prophet_'s rubbish doesn't mean what he says isn't rubbish either," said Cormac loudly, seemingly immune to Katie's glare.

"We knew you were thick McLaggen but this is a new low for you! You really don't believe Harry and Dumbledore? Your head must be too big and filled with air!" said Angelina scathingly, her glare matching Katie's.

"Oy come on, everyone knows Dumbledore was always a bit barmy and now he's gone senile to boot. It's probably a good thing we have someone from the Ministry to keep an eye on things now." scoffed Cormac.

"The Ministry is filled with morons…" started Fred

"Must be why you like it so much, McLaggen!" finished George.

"Hey my parents work at the Ministry!" interjected an angry seventh year girl Harry didn't know.

During all this Harry had just started gripping the arms of his chair harder and harder, until his knuckles were a ghostly white. His anger had been slowly mounting at this McLaggen idiot and those who seemed to agree with him. He was a liar, and Dumbledore a fool…what do they bloody know, he thought savagely. Finally, his temper blew like a volcano that had building up pressure.

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!" Harry bellowed as he stood up, rounding to face the common room.

"IF YOU BELIEVE I'M A CRAZY MADMAN AND DUMBLEDORE'S A FOOL, FINE! JUST DON'T BE TOO SURPRISED IF I'M NOT SO FORGIVING WHEN THE TRUTH COMES OUT AND YOU REALIZE YOU ARE ALL THE FOOLS! OH AND THINK ABOUT THIS; IF EVERYTHING IS SAFE AND PERFECT LIKE THE MINISTRY SAYS _WHY IN THE BLOODY NAME OF MERLIN DID SOMEONE TRY TO KILL ME THIS SUMMER!_"

The common room was in dead silence as Harry swept through it and stormed up the staircase to his dorm.

* * *

The Ravenclaw common room can most simply be described as luxurious. The room is a large oval filled with comfortable but prim chairs and tables in an almost Greco-Roman style. The carpet is a deep midnight blue while the trimmings of accents are a pure white. Silks of blue and bronze sweep from the ceiling, which is similar to the Great Hall's ceiling showing a dazzling, but accurate, night sky. Books and scrolls line shelves on all sides of the room while spiral staircases sit opposite each other, one for the girl's dormitory and one for the boy's dormitory.

As Harry swept up the stairs in anger in Gryffindor Tower, Terry Boot, Mandy Brocklehurst, Padma Patil, Anthony Goldstein, and Lisa Turpin all sat together in deep discussion.

"Isn't your father part of the Wizengamot though? Wouldn't he know something?" Anthony Goldstein asked Terry Boot.

"For the last time Tony," started Terry with a sigh, "Yes my dad is in the Wizengamot but that doesn't mean he knows anything, he isn't part of the ruling block right now. He is also pretty nervous. From what he heard, Fudge hasn't launched any sort of investigation into whether You-Know-Who could be back…"

"It seems like a really big thing to cover up though. I mean…wouldn't they know?" asked Mandy quietly.

"You can look at it from the other side though, it seems like a pretty big thing for Harry Potter and Professor Dumbledore to lie about doesn't it," said Padma coolly.

"That's true, and what would they gain from lying?" mused Anthony.

"Considering how many times Dumbledore could have had the Minister's position the rumours that it's a power grab seem like codswallop," said Terry.

"Logically, you would also think that You-Know-Who coming back would be the last thing Harry would want…I mean he lost everything because of You-Know-Who…"

"But how could he be back? No one can return from the dead…" asked Lisa Turpin worriedly.

"No one is supposed to be able to survive the Killing Curse either and that happened…" said Terry trailing off. A silence permeated the air for a moment; the group was all considering that if so many seemingly impossible things had already happened, maybe one more could?

"Going back to my earlier question, we don't think that Dumbledore and Potter have anything to gain by lying, but what does the Ministry and Fudge have to gain by covering it up?" asked Anthony, changing the subject slightly.

"Yeah, it doesn't make sense, wouldn't the Ministry be acting against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named if he was really back?" said Mandy.

"Terry, who is part of the ruling block in the Wizengamot? Who backs Fudge?" asked Padma, twirling her long silky black hair.

Terry leaned back in his chair and puffed out his cheeks, "Right now, it's a coalition of traditionalists and centrists. They have a pretty big majority in the Wizengamot. His main advisor though is Lord Malfoy, Draco's father…"

"The same Draco Malfoy who you said seemed to be insinuating that You-Know-Who was back today on the train to Harry Potter," interjected Padma.

"What does this have to do why the Ministry would want to cover up You-Know-Who's return," said Lisa puzzled.

"I think _everything_!" exclaimed Terry as he waved his arm and snapped his fingers; a habit he had for when he had solved a complex problem.

Anthony, Mandy, and Lisa all turned to him quizzically while Padma just folded her hands in her lap; she had pieced it together also.

"Lucius Malfoy was cleared last time of being a Death Eater for a healthy amount of gold, right?" started Terry, almost bouncing.

"Yeah, Imperius defence and all that, though a lot of people were still suspicious," said Anthony.

"Well, say he was actually a Death Eater,"

"Not exactly a stretch considering Draco's a little blood purist ponce," interrupted Lisa.

"Right, well so he's a Death Eater and You-Know-Who is back. Malfoy is serving him again, along with a number of Lords that back Fudge. You-Know-Who doesn't want everyone to know he is back and he had his faithful Death Eaters to play puppet master behind Fudge. They could convince Fudge that its Dumbledore's fault, they already don't like him, and also convince him that an investigation isn't needed. They also have enough power in the departments to prevent too much resistance to Fudge…"

"So Fudge is just a puppet and the people controlling him all happen to be supposedly acquitted Death Eaters," said Lisa shocked. It was all too convenient.

"Why would You-Know-Who not want people to know he's back yet though," squeaked Mandy. She was also putting together the pieces; there were too many coincidences.

"If he isn't ready for open war, he would want to stay hidden while he prepares," said Padma.

"That way he can get ready for another war while the Ministry does nothing to prepare…" Lisa whispered quietly.

"It'll be a bloodbath when he finally announces his return, the Aurors won't be ready." Terry said firmly.

"So you believe he's back then?" queried Anthony.

"Don't you at this point," shot back Terry.

"I wasn't sure before, but now after talking through it, it definitely seems like You-Know-Who is back…" said Anthony quietly.

"I agree as I believe Harry and Dumbledore. What about you two? " Padma asked Lisa and Mandy.

Lisa sighed and squeezed her hands together. "I didn't think so before, but…it does seem at least likely at this point."

The group all turned to Mandy who was staring at her fingers. "I don't want to believe it but I guess it's at least possible…" she trailed off.

"And I think you are all a disgrace to Ravenclaw," interrupted Jordan Samuels, a weedy looking sixth year as he walked up to the group with Marietta Edgecombe and Kevin McKeon, eyeing Padma.

"Believing such codswallop, there is no way You-Know-Who is back! Dumbledore's old and I've heard that Potter has always been a bit crazy, must have just gone over the edge like Loony Lovegood!"

"Oye put a sock in it Samuels," growled Terry.

"And stop disrespecting your own housemates, it's pitiful," said Padma scathingly.

"Oh come on Padma, defending Potter and Lovegood? There are certainly better people to…ah…associate yourself with," said Jordan, ignoring Terry and sending a rather uncomfortable look directly at Padma.

"I'd rather _associate_ with Harry Potter and Luna before you any day, now get out of here," said Padma icily.

Jordan Samuels, however, did not take a hint and took a step forward. Before he could open his mouth, though, Anthony and Terry were standing with their wands out. Jordan's two friends, Kevin and Marietta, didn't even have time to move.

"The good lady said to back off," started Terry.

"So don't give us a reason to make you!" finished Anthony.

Jordan glanced slightly nervously at the two fifth years, which were both a hair taller and quite a bit stockier than him, and walked off mumbling under his breath, his two friends following him.

"Piece of filth, he's been leering at you for since early last year," said Lisa scathingly.

"I know, he's basically Ravenclaw's Malfoy. Just because his father is powerful and he gets good grades he thinks he's Merlin's gift to us all," responded Padma.

"Well if he gives you any trouble just let Tony and I know," Terry said while glaring at Jordan from across the common room.

"It's fine, I can take care of myself," said Padma firmly before letting out a yawn. "I think I'm heading up to bed, first day of classes tomorrow and all."

The other four murmured their agreement and they all disappeared to their respective dormitories, pensive about the conversation they had just had and excited for the first day of classes.

* * *

"You are sure that's what Malfoy said?" Ernie MacMillian asked Susan Bones whilst sitting on one of the couches in the Hufflepuff common room.

"For the last time Ernie, I'm sure, and for the love of Merlin don't ask again!" retorted an exasperated Susan.

While the Ravenclaw common room was prim and proper, much like a comfortable lounge at an expensive home or hotel, the Hufflepuff common room was homey and comfortable, like a basement or garage with a couch that is both supremely comfortable and hideously ugly. Set up on the first floor of Hogwarts, it was set up as a large square filled with soft lights, coffee tables, and comfortable couches. Three fireplaces sat in the corners, always roaring with flame. The room was painted a warm golden yellow and accented with black and burnished bronze. The common room was unique as it also opened onto a garden, which could only be accessed through the Hufflepuff common room. A few lounge chairs sat outside and the garden was a minor Herbology wonder, filled with plants planted by Professor Sprout.

"Can someone explain to me why it would be a big deal if Malfoy said something about You-Know-Who?" asked a puzzled Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"Sorry, keep forgetting as a muggle-born you don't know this stuff," said Ernie apologetically.

"Basically Malfoy's dad was accused of being a Death Eater last time and was pardoned by claiming he had been Imperiused, but a lot of people didn't believe it," explained Susan patiently.

"I remember your Auntie saying she didn't think he was innocent either," said Hannah Abbott.

"If no one thinks he is innocent how did he get off?" asked Justin, this still wasn't making any sense to him.

"He's powerful, he's a Lord in the Wizengamot and one of the highest advisors to the Minister," replied Ernie.

Justin blinked a few times. "I know this is going to sound a bit harsh but seems to me that wizarding politics are pretty messed up if a suspected murdering anarchist is now one of its most powerful men."

"There are good people in the Wizengamot and Ministry too, my father is a Lord and Susan's aunt is one of the most powerful witches in the Ministry," said Ernie pompously defended.

"Getting back on topic," interjected Hannah, "So Malfoy was insinuating that You-Know-Who is back. What does your Auntie think? I mean she is the head of the DMLE, wouldn't she know…" finished the buxom blonde.

"She doesn't know for sure, which is what makes her think You-Know-Who is back," explained Susan. Her three Hufflepuff housemates just stared at her in confusion, and Susan sighed.

"Basically she has no proof, but she isn't allowed to find out anything either. Minister Fudge has basically forbidden her from investigating. She wanted to interview Harry and maybe even ask for Pensieve memories or see if he was willing to testify under Veritaserum but Minister Fudge wouldn't allow it," said Susan.

"That's just…illogical," said Justin while Hannah and Ernie nodded in agreement.

"So basically because everyone is denying it without proof it seems like someone is hiding something, and that something is You-Know-Who being back?" queried Hannah quietly.

"Pretty much, and what Malfoy said today seems to pretty much confirm it…"

Justin quickly jumped in, "But why can't your Aunt do something about it? Isn't she the most powerful witch in the Ministry?" he asked.

"Second most powerful, to our new DADA professor actually, though from what I know Auntie pretty much despises Umbridge," replied Susan.

"But still couldn't she say something…" pressed Justin.

"It's not that simple Justin," Ernie began, "Susan's Aunt is powerful in the Ministry but there is no proof and she is still under Fudge and his deputies, she would basically be handing in her own resignation if she went against his orders. Fudge is also backed by the Wizengamot right now so she can't circumvent Fudge at all"

"Dumbledore was much more powerful and influential and look how he's been discredited," interjected Hannah.

"So basically a terrible Dark wizard is back and wants to take over, but the wizarding world is getting the wool pulled over their eyes, and the only ones trying to do anything about it are Harry Potter and Dumbledore," summed up Justin grimly. His blunt summarization seemed to strike home with Hannah, Susan, and Ernie and they sat there in grim silence, considering the ramifications.

"I know I expected it, but Draco is going to be truly unbearable this year," quipped Tracy Davis.

"Honestly, I think that may not be our biggest problem this year though," replied Blaise Zabini.

"Agreed. This is going to be a particularly tough year for us in Slytherin, with Draco, Theo and the other junior Death Eaters having free reign," said Daphne Greengrass as she looked at Draco Malfoy and his cronies from across the Slytherin common room. The trio of fifth year Slytherins was seated in a shadowed corner of the common room, attempting to avoid any attention. Daphne's golden blond hair, however, wasn't making this easy.

"Isn't it always?" sighed Tracy running her hand through her curly brown locks nervously.

"Now that You-Know-Who is back though, Draco is even more powerful," replied Daphne.

Blaise glanced in the direction of the blonde Slytherin. Draco had Pansy on his arm while he chatted with a couple of seventh year Slytherins, "He already has most of the sixth and seventh years eating out of his hands because his father is so high up in the Death Eater ranks."

"Doesn't even matter that you," Daphne motioned to Blaise, "and I are prefects, we are effectively powerless, even within our own house," murmured Daphne.

"Not like we are going to get any help from Professor Snape either, maintaining neutrality is going to be hard," said Blaise, his cropped dark hair and Mediterranean skin looking even darker in the shadows of the dimly lit common room.

"I now really see why our parents have been so stressed, trying to stay neutral is going to be borderline impossible, even if the fact that both our fathers are Lords provided some protection before," said Tracy to Daphne, who just nodded while biting her lower lip, her normally sparkling icy blue eyes dimmed with stress.

"So what are we going to do?" asked Blaise bluntly.

"What we always do," replied Daphne coolly as she turned to face her only two friends at Hogwarts.

"Survive."

* * *

Harry was only half-awake when he trudged down to breakfast the following morning with Ron and Hermione. It had taken him an hour in the showers to calm down enough to go to sleep, and now he was gulping down some Earl Grey tea with his breakfast in an effort to wake up for the first day of classes.

"Your timetables, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Ms. Granger," came the stern voice of Professor McGonagall, the Gryffindor head of house and transfiguration master.

"Remember it is your O.W.L year, so please try to remain studious, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, though I'm sure Ms. Granger will help with that," the older woman finished with the lightest traces of a smile.

Hermione immediately began copying her timetable in her daily planner while Ron unfurled his timetable, "Urgh my mum has already been bugging me about O.W.L's and now McGonagall is going to be on my case, this year is going to be a bore," complained Ron as he ate a blueberry scone.

Harry ignored his best friend's complaints as he examined his own timetable. He had a double period of Charms first thing that morning. He could see why Ron was complaining; fifth years had more hours of class in preparation for O.W.L's and his timetable looked absolutely packed. As he looked through his Tuesday timetable he scowled, "Divination…another year of getting my death predicted by that psychotic bat…wonderful," Harry though sarcastically. Trelawney might not be a complete fraud, Harry knew, but it still wasn't like they learned anything in the class.

"Something wrong with your timetable Harry?" asked a slightly concerned Hermione, who had noticed Harry's scowl.

"Divination," growled Harry.

Hermione shook her head, "I don't know why you take the class. You don't learn a thing and you can't use it for anything. I'm so glad I am taking Ancient Runes and Arithmancy instead; they lead to all sorts of fascinating careers."

"Yeah but they sound hard, at least Divination is an easy EE or O, even if it is a joke," interjected Ron. Harry noticed Parvati Patil shoot Ron a disproving glance; he knew it was one of the Indian twin's favourite classes.

Harry turned to Hermione, who was still copying her timetable into her planner. "What kinds of jobs need Ancient Runes and Arithmancy," he asked curiously.

"Well Arithmancy is needed if you want to do research or develop new spells. I've heard if you want to work in the Department of Mysteries you need a top grade on your N.E.W.T for it," began Hermione excitedly.

"Department of Mysteries? I think I remember Mr. Weasley mentioning it but what do they actually do?" asked a puzzled Harry.

"Ministry Department. Do crazy magic experiments or something. They can't really talk about it. The people who work there are called Unspeakables," mumbled Ron through bites of scrambled eggs.

"I think doing research or spell development would be fascinating though, it's something I'm really considering pursuing. There are so many interesting facets of magic that still haven't been explored using Arithmancy," ranted Hermione as she practically bounced in her seat.

"And Ancient Runes?" Harry said before Hermione could continue. Arithmancy sounded like it led to a lot of jobs involving books and deskwork, definitely not Harry's forte.

"That actually has a lot of applications," Hermione began, "Researchers need it for translation of ancient documents and some branches of magic like warding are rune based."

"I remember Bill said you needed at least your O.W.L. in Ancient Runes to work as a Cursebreaker for Gringotts," added Ron.

Ancient Runes now suddenly sounded a lot more interesting to Harry. He remembered how_ cool_ Bill was and how his job as a Curse Breaker seemed to have an aura mystique around it, even though Harry didn't really know what it involved other than ancient magical ruins and hidden treasure. "Getting through obstacles and finding treasure, I feel like I'm pretty good at that…the Philosopher's stone, the Chamber of Secrets, the Triwizard Tournament," thought Harry.

Harry looked up and saw Professor McGonagall further down the table still handing out timetables. He then looked down at his own timetable, specifically where at the time slots that held Divination, and made a decision.

Harry rose from his seat, ignoring Ron and Hermione's questioning looks, and strode over to Professor McGonagall, his timetable in hand.

"Professor, if you have a moment, I have a question about my timetable," Harry asked apprehensively.

Professor McGonagall looked at him with a slightly raised eyebrow, "What seems to be the problem, Mr. Potter?"

"I was wondering, is it possible to change elective courses. I realize I would be behind but still…" Harry trailed off.

Professor McGonagall seemed to examine Harry intently for a moment. "Yes, it is. Students may switch electives after third year with their head of house's approval, though it is a bit rare to do so in one's fifth year. Did you have a specific switch in mind?"

Harry grinned, "Actually yes, I would like to drop Divination for Ancient Runes."

Professor McGonagall gave Harry a rare smile when he mentioned dropping Divination. "A most practical and intelligent decision, Mr. Potter. While without independent study, you will only be able to achieve an O.W.L due to your late start in Runes, it is still at that level a useful subject to know. Luckily, fifth year Divination and third year Ancient Runes are in the same time slot," the generally stern professor said. With a tap of her wand on Harry's timetable Divination disappeared to be replaced by Ancient Runes.

"I will inform Professor Babbling of the switch and she should be able to lend you the proper books needed for the first week of classes until you can owl Flourish and Blotts," finished Professor McGonagall.

"Thanks Professor! I was dreading another year getting my death predicted by that fraud…I mean…erm," Harry began stammering realizing he had just insulted a professor in front of his stern head of house.

Professor McGonagall gave Harry a sharp look. "Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall's features softened, "I will pretend I did not just hear you insult a professor due to…circumstances…but _do not let it happen again_. Now off to your first class, it is nearly nine o'clock!"

Harry assured Professor McGonagall it wouldn't happen again and joined Ron and Hermione as they headed to Charms. Hermione immediately approved of Harry's decision and offered her notes and study guides while Ron grumbled how he wouldn't have someone to do his Divination homework with until Harry pointed out they had just been making it all up anyway.

Charms class began with Professor Flitwick lecturing on the importance of O.W.L year and outlining all the different charms they would need to know for the exam. The latter half was a review of spells they had covered at the end of the previous year, specifically summoning and banishing. Harry walked out grinning as he had earned Gryffindor 20 points, much to the chagrin of most of the Slytherins, who they uncharacteristically had Charms with this year. "No better way to master summoning charms than to have your life on the line a couple times," thought Harry as he remembered the graveyard and the first task.

The uncharacteristic house pairings for classes continued as Harry Potter walked into the Defence classroom with a slight sense of foreboding. However, that wasn't the first thing he, Ron, and Hermione, noticed.

"Wow this looks like Madam Puddifoot's," exclaimed Seamus Finnigan, in his Irish accent, as he walked in right behind them.

Harry wasn't sure what Madam Puddifoot's looked like but all he could see was pink as sheets of different shades of the colour billowed from the ceiling of the classroom. The desks and chairs were arranged in perfectly straight rows, each desk containing a pink nametag, which Harry noticed had the names of his classmates in alphabetical order.

"Looks like we won't be able to sit together," said Hermione a little worried as she sat down next to Anthony Goldstein while Ron went and found his seat in the back, still shell shocked from all the pink.

Harry saw his nametag and took a seat next to Padma Patil, who was pulling out her copy of Wilbert Slinkhard's _Defensive Magical Theory_. He saw Parvati on the other side of Padma chatting with her best friend Lavender, who was seated just in front of her. Harry looked up just in time to see Dolores Umbridge enter the room.

"Guess she really, _really_ likes pink," muttered Harry softly. He thought no one would hear but Padma let out a soft giggle, causing their eyes to meet briefly.

"Hopefully she's one of the few that doesn't think I'm psychotic then," Harry thought optimistically. His pessimistic side quickly kicked in, however, when he realized he probably hadn't helped himself by setting her up with Ron for the Yule Ball.

Dolores Umbridge was short and, while not obese, rather pudgy. Her light brown hair was cut relatively short and tamed by a bright pink hair clip that seemed to contrast with her somewhat intimidating grey eyes. No one in his or her right mind would consider her an attractive woman, and the fact that she was clad head to toe in pink didn't help.

"Good afternoon class," began Professor Umbridge, "let's get started shall we? Wands away and quills out, if you please." Her voice and tone were girlish and high pitched, like how one would speak to toddlers, and Harry knew he would come to hate it.

Professor Umbridge started passing out parchments of syllabi while speaking, "As you can see I believe strongly in order, structure, and organization. You will not be sitting willy-nilly in my class but in alphabetical order as shown by the tags. You will follow my directions explicitly. You will bring your copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_ to every class. This class will be significantly different than your previous years as it will be the first one with _proper_ and _ministry approved_ material and teaching," she finished, glancing at Harry with an unreadable expression.

Harry narrowed his eyes at her last sentence; he thought he knew what that meant and didn't like it.

Professor Umbridge moved and sat down at her desk at the front of the classroom. "The syllabus is for you to peruse on your own time. Now, please open you books to chapter one and begin reading, you will be quizzed on the first chapter next class."

Harry reached down and opened his book with a sigh; he could deal with just reading for a class period. He looked back up to see Professor Umbridge looking past him and to his left with a strange expression.

"Ms. Granger, I'm not sure what about my instructions prompts a question, they are quite clear," Professor Umbridge said a sickly sweet voice that someone also seemed to contain some venom.

Harry turned and saw Hermione with her hand up before she began speaking.

"Yes Professor, however, I read through the syllabus quickly and have a quick question concerning it." Hermione said very politely.

Professor Umbridge quirked an eyebrow, "Pray, tell, what is this question? I feel the syllabus was equally clear."

"Well," began Hermione politely but confidently, "there was nothing in the syllabus about practising spell work. It only described theory and reading. How will the practical portion of the class work?"

Professor Umbridge smiled sweetly while bringing her elbows up to rest upon the desk. "The syllabus was quite clear and correct, Ms Granger. There will be no spell casting in this classroom, only theory work. Merlin knows none of you will ever actually need such things. Thus, there is no reason to have a practical portion."

There was a miniscule moment of shock in the classroom before everyone burst with questions. The Ravenclaws all raised their hands while the Gryffindors were not so orderly and simply began speaking.

"So we aren't going to be bloody learning anything? How are we supposed to defend ourselves?" exclaimed Ron loudly over most of the others.

"Silence," shouted Professor Umbridge, immediately quieting the classroom and causing the Ravenclaws to lower their hands.

"That will be 10 points from Gryffindor for language, Mr. Weasley. You will be learning plenty. _Defensive Magical Theory _is an excellent text. There is also no need to defend yourselves as there is nothing threatening you, no matter what lies _some_ may be spouting," Professor Umbridge stated, turning to stare dangerously at Harry for the last line. The class immediately knew exactly what she was implying.

Harry gritted his teeth while his vision blurred with anger; he used every single ounce of his self-control to keep himself from yelling at her. "Remember what Sirius and Remus said, don't give her a reason," he thought. Harry saw a hand shoot up in the front row and recognized Terry Boot from their encounter on the Hogwarts Express.

"Yes, Mr Boot?" Professor Umbridge asked with a slight tinge of annoyance in her tone.

"What about our O.W.L exams? There is a practical portion; how are we supposed to pass if we don't practise for it?" he asked confidently. Terry Boot didn't care that she was a professor or had the backing of the Ministry; he thought this was idiotic and he wasn't going to be intimidated.

Professor Umbridge stuttered for a moment before speaking, "As long as you understand the theory well enough, I am confident that in a controlled and monitored exam situation you should be able to perform adequately."

Harry thought Terry was about to respond but bit it back when Padma Patil's hand shot up. Harry noticed she had a rather determined look set on her face and her swirling brown eyes seemed to be piercing Professor Umbridge.

"This will be the last question," Professor Umbridge bristled while looking at Padma, "Ms. Patil."

"How will this prepare us for careers that require practical use of defence like an Auror or Curse Breaker? You cannot deny that dangerous creatures and wizards exist and that there are professions that necessitate knowledge of curses, spells, and hexes beyond the theory level," Padma asked.

Professor Umbridge turned pink and was immediately flustered by the pretty Indian Ravenclaw's very apt question. "Ms. Patil, the curriculum has been approved by the Ministry and I assure you that it will prepare you sufficiently for whatever is out there. Unlike what some may lead you to believe, dangers do not exist at every turn, particularly in Britain where the Ministry has a strong track record of keeping the populace safe."

Harry blinked a couple times at Professor Umbridge's words, quickly realizing two things. First, she hadn't actually answered Padma's question. Second, clearly Professor Umbridge was either a completely ignorant idiot to the world or had some incomprehensible ulterior motive because she had just spouted one of the biggest loads of bullshit Harry had ever heard.

"You and the Ministry must be utterly delusional," muttered Harry before he could stop himself, just loud enough that the whole classroom could hear.

Professor Umbridge rounded on Harry with an almost sick gleam in her eye. "Detention Mr Potter, every night this week at 9 pm. Your lies and such disrespect will not be tolerated. Now everyone, begin reading!"

Harry clamped his teeth together to restrain himself. He noticed glancing around the room, however, that a number of the students in the class didn't look particularly pleased with Professor Umbridge. He noticed that Ron, Hermione, Padma, and Terry seemed to be shooting particularly scathing looks at the new professor.

The rest of the period passed in silence as everyone read the first chapter of _Defensive Magical Theory_. About four pages into the book, Harry had realized that Wilbert Slinkhard was only a notch or two above Lockhart in his actual knowledge of defence. "DADA has just become like History of Magic, except we can't actually sleep," Harry thought miserably.

The period finally and Professor Umbridge dismissed the class before gathering her bag and walking out of the room first. Harry noted this almost unheard of for a professor but shrugged it off, he didn't want to spend any more time with her than he had to.

As Harry was quickly packing up, he flinched as pain shot up from his left foot.

"Oh Merlin! I'm sorry! I hope that didn't hurt!" said Padma sincerely. Harry saw she had accidentally dropped her copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_ onto his foot.

"No problem, and I'm fine. The book is a bit heavy for being so useless though," quipped Harry as he handed the book back to her.

Padma grinned at Harry as she took the book before scowling, "Ugh, tell me about it! I managed to get through the first three chapters and they don't teach you a thing! They don't even describe wand motions! Stunners and Shield charms are standard for the O.W. L to get an EE or above and I have no idea how to do either, nor does it seem like we are going to be learning how from that miserable excuse for a teacher," Padma said fiercely as she jammed _Defensive Magical Theory_ into her book bag.

Harry was slightly taken aback by Padma's fierceness but thoroughly approved of her negative opinion of Professor Umbridge.

"Well, the Stunning spell is an outside to inside partial slash with a bit of a wrist flick, while the basic _Protego_ shield charm is just a kind of wave," said Harry casually as he demonstrated the wand movements gracefully. He had spent long hours practicing the spells last year for the Triwizard Tournament and even after a summer without using magic the movements still came naturally to him.

Padma looked up at Harry and blinked a couple times before giving him a look that sent a slight chill down Harry's spine. The look was somewhere between the excited look Hermione had before she ran off to research something, and the mischievous and calculating expression the twins wore as they planned and executed a prank. The combination was something to be feared, Harry thought.

"I've got to go, but I might have to ask you about those spells again sometime," Padma said.

"Uhhh…sure? Anytime?" mumbled Harry as he looked down at Padma.

"Great! Thanks and see you around," said Padma as she walked over to a few Ravenclaws who had been waiting for her.

Harry caught up with Hermione and Ron, and they let off a bit of steam by berating Professor Umbridge and the unfairness of the detentions she had assigned Harry. As they walked into History of Magic, Harry was, for once, thankful of Binns' ghostly nature so he could actually nap through the boring material.

Meanwhile, a certain pretty Indian Ravenclaw was discussing an idea with her redheaded Hufflepuff potions partner as they waited for Professor Snape to arrive. Terry looked over at the two attractive girls plotting. Padma had already told him her idea on the walk over and he liked it, but he still would never wish the combined power and persistence of Padma Patil and Susan Bones on anyone. Terry shivered a bit and mentally begged Fate to have some measure of mercy on Harry Potter as the boy had no idea what was coming.

* * *

Xander was lying down comfortably on his bed in his room at the Leaky Cauldron, flipping comfortably through a book titled _The Ministers of Magic: 19th Century to Present_. Next to his bed was a couple of stacks books on similar subjects; essays on the Wizengamot and wizarding politics in Britain, biographies of important modern British wizards, and accounts of the first war against Voldemort. Xander had been inhaling everything he could find on British wizarding history, Voldemort, and the current Ministry for the last few weeks to try to get a feel for just what he was getting himself involved in. The conclusions Xander had weren't particularly flattering.

First, some of the books he had read needed to be shifted from the "non-fiction" to the "fiction" section, especially those books that dealt with Voldemort's fall. Xander had laughed particularly hard when one author theorized Voldemort had actually been an Inferi possessed by a evil spirit that had been destroyed when an infant Harry Potter had cast the "Light" magic version of Fiendfyre (Xander was fairly confident no such thing existed, not even accounting for the fact Fiendfyre wasn't technically a "Dark" spell).

Second, the British wizarding community was two parts delusional, one part arrogant, and one part ignorant, served on the rocks. Although they were assuredly a part of the 10 Great Wizarding powers, the most powerful and influential wizarding nations in the world, they seemed to believe they were far and away the greatest when a number of other nations outstripped Britain both economically and in the production of wizarding Masters. Additionally, Britain and a great portion of Europe had christened Albus Dumbledore "Greatest Wizard of the Age"; a laughable claim, Xander thought. While Xander had great respect for Albus Dumbledore and knew he was without a doubt _one_ of the most powerful and knowledgeable wizards in the world; crowning him "greatest" was simply foolish.

'What? Did they put him in a room with Old Man Ting, Sorceress Coyoba, Guru Ganesh, Jacques 'Limbs' Maison, Benjamin Solomon, and Irfan Asma for some sort of free for all magical contest or battle to determine who is the greatest?" scoffed Xander mentally as he closed his book and dropped it onto one of the piles by his bed.

Xander looked up just as an owl swooped into his room through the open window, a letter tied to its leg. Xander gave it an owl treat before it hopped over to rest on the owl perch in his room, next to the large barn owl Xander was renting while he was in England.

Xander unrolled the note; it was written in Spanish and wasn't particularly long.

_Zombie,_

_Hopefully you haven't gotten yourself in any trouble yet. I'm back in Spain picking up another job, some criminal busted out of prison and I'm helping to haul him back in. Unfortunately, word is this one is also headed to Britain so I might see you sooner rather than later._

_Okay before you toss this letter here is the important bit. Rumour has it that Carlos Porras managed to escape that manhunt in South America (we should have just cursed the asshole instead of handing him over the Columbian Aurors) and is now in England along with what seems like half the world's wanted wizards. Now, everyone around has heard you are in Britain on the Black job. Watch yourself man, Carlos is probably gunning after you. If you run into him, you'd do the world a favour to make sure it's his head that comes off instead of just his hand._

_-Raine_

_P.S: I put 50 galleons on you in the betting pool and it would be nice if you made me some money so I don't want to look like an idiot for betting against Limbs._

Xander lit the letter on fire before swearing in four different languages. "Of all the assholes that didn't die and they had to let escape…" Xander thought grimly. "Voldemort will be plenty happy to have him."

There was no doubt that Carlos Porras was skilled, the burn scars on Xander's back could attest to that. Pablo Rojas, the now deceased Columbia self-proclaimed Dark Lord, had been extremely skilled in a duel, but his main tools had been his charisma and obsession with necromancy. In terms of pure fighting ability, Xander would honestly rate his right hand man Carlos higher; a spell-developer turned assassin, and former South American Amateur duel champion, Carlos had incredible reflexes and a love of Dark fire-based curses, a particularly nasty combination.

Xander sat down on his bed, fingering his wand, recalling the first time he ran into Carlos. He and Raine had led a hit a _Los Ensangrentados_ safe house, as Rojas' followers were called. As they had cleared the ranch house Xander stormed the basement to find a stocky, tan man with long hair tied back in a ponytail, torturing Muggles, some of whose limbs were still smouldering.

"Ah," had said the man with a sickly smile, "how rude, I hate to be interrupted while testing new spells."

Xander had felt rage like he had only felt once or twice before, the scene before him striking a bit too close to memories from his own past. They had exchanged a few spells before reinforcements arrived and Carlos Porras had Portkeyed away, but not before he had cast _Fiendfyre_ at the few surviving Muggles, killing them all. Xander had received a nasty collection of burns on his back as he tackled a Columbian auror away from the cursed fire.

Xander had encountered him twice after their initial meeting, each time resulting in vicious duels that neither fighter left unscathed. The first had ended without a conclusion as Carlos had been forced to escape again. Xander had finally gotten the better of him during their second and last meeting; removing his hand with a blade Xander had conjured and manipulated in Carlos' blind spot before stunning and binding him.

Xander stood up and walked over to his trunk, pulling out a glass and a bottle of aged rum. He poured himself a generous serving before sitting down in the comfortable armchair in his room, the faint burn scars on his back tingling slightly as recalled his fights with the "Devil of Fire", as Carlos had been nicknamed. He had to consciously reign in his emotions as his grip had been slowly tightening on his class, nearly crushing it.

"Next time…next time I'll make sure he goes straight to Hell," Xander muttered fiercely.

* * *

"I'm so glad that you are taking a greater interest in studying Harry! If you want to do more study groups I can make you a new study schedule that incorporates more group study. I only wish we could have had Ron join, he really needs to start focusing more, it is O.W.L year! By the way who exactly is going to be there tonight? Do you know what subjects we are studying? I brought all my notes and books just in case so I think I should be fine," rambled Hermione as she and Harry walked through the dim stone corridors of Hogwarts to the library.

Harry was nodding absent mindedly, pretending that he was paying attention to Hermione's excited babbling, a skill that was practically required to be friends with Hermione. Harry's thoughts drifted to that morning's DADA class. After another boring period of silent reading, just like how their first week of classes had gone, Padma Patil and Terry Boot had cornered Harry after class and asked him to join them in a study group in the library that night.

When he had told Hermione and Ron at dinner about it Hermione had promptly invited herself while Ron looked revolted at voluntarily spending time in the library. The redhead was now destroying some poor fourth year at chess. While he hoped it wouldn't be awkward that Hermione was coming also he felt significantly more comfortable with her there; though Harry thought she could be a bit of a pain to study with he wasn't used to hanging out with anyone else and appreciated having a friendly face in case something happened.

Harry was jolted out from his thoughts when they arrived at the library. He squeezed his hand, a sign of nerves, and felt pain shoot up his arm as the wounds on the back of his hand reopened.

"Umbridge can go straight to hell," Harry thought as he tried to prevent the pain showing on his face. He stole a quick glance at the back of his right hand, which looked perfectly normal. Harry had spent most of the afternoon learning a Glamour charm to hide the wounds spelling out -_I shall not lie- _that the strange red quill Umbridge had forced him to use had caused.

"Where in the library did they say they would be?" asked Hermione, giving Harry a penetrating look.

"Erm…by those tables away from Pince. I don't think anyone likes her breathing down their necks," Harry replied as he walked through the library where he soon spotted Padma and Terry among a group of his year mates.

"Quite a few people," Harry said with a nervous gulp.

"It'll be fine Harry, we at least sort of know them all," replied Hermione as she surveyed the group.

As the duo walked up the table, Harry noticed the two available seats weren't next to each other; one was open between Padma and Susan Bones, while the other was between Justin Finch-Fletchey and Anthony Goldstein.

"Harry! Hermione!" Harry saw Padma call out while waving towards them as they closed the last few steps. She didn't seem particularly surprised that Hermione was there.

"Glad you two made it,"

"Now take a seat so we can get started," jumped in Susan, patting the seat between her and Padma while looking at Harry.

Harry glanced at Hermione before taking the seat between two of the most attractive girls in their year. As Hermione took the other open seat Harry looked around the table and realized that nearly everyone's eyes were on him. Harry recognized everyone, it was a mix of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs from his year; Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein, Mandy Brocklehurst, Lisa Turpin, Padma Patil, Susan Bones, Ernie Macmillian, Hannah Abbott, and Justin Finch-Fletchey.

"So what are we studying?" Harry asked as he glanced apprehensively at Ernie, Hannah, and Justin, who were all sitting next to each other.

"Well we were studying Charms, but I think the plan is to actually now switch to DADA," said Terry.

Harry looked over at Hermione and saw she was just as puzzled as him.

"Defence?" the bushy haired Gryffindor asked.

"How are you studying for that? There is nothing to study for…." Harry said trailing off.

"Well," began Susan bones, her dark auburn hair pulled back into a ponytail and her sky blue eyes dancing with a bit of mischief, "just because Umbridge's "Ministry Approved" curriculum doesn't require any actual studying doesn't mean we don't want to learn Defence."

"There are practicals we need to be ready for on O.W.L's, and the Ministry doesn't control those right now," added Anthony.

"Plus, no matter how much some deny it, there are dangers and threats out there that we need to learn to combat," said Padma.

"_Especially _here in Britain," finished Terry seriously while looking straight at Harry.

"You believe Voldemort is back," Harry responded softly, ignoring the flinches from everyone else. It was a statement rather than a question.

"Yes, we do," said Padma simply.

"You all as well?" directed Harry to the Hufflepuffs, piercing them with a hard look.

"Of course we believe you, we wouldn't be here if we didn't!" replied Susan.

"Why would you trust them," asked Hannah in a slightly offended tone, "and not us right away?"

Harry's gaze softened noticeably. "Sorry, though you can't really blame me. After second year when you all believed I was the Heir of Slytherin and then last year with the "Potter Stinks" badges… well you Hufflepuffs generally don't seem to believe me."

Hannah and Susan flushed with embarrassment while Justin and Ernie flinched; they knew they had been wrong in the past and could only hope that their mistakes wouldn't haunt them now.

"Look, we won't deny it but we can honestly swear we do believe you this time and hope you can forgive us," said Susan, biting her bottom lip when she had finished.

Harry saw Hermione giving him with an unreadable look while the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws tensed slightly, waiting for his response.

Harry let out a long sigh before speaking. "As long as we are good now and you don't believe I was the heir, put my name in the Goblet, or am lying about Voldemort's return. While it wasn't easy to see everyone turn on me back then I guess I can understand why it might happen from your perspective since you didn't know me that well."

Everyone noticeably relaxed and Harry noticed Susan grinning from ear to ear while Padma smiled softly.

"Well, now that that is over maybe we should get to business," said Padma.

"Do you have a plan for studying defence? I'm guessing we'll just self-study based on the O.W.L and N.E.W.T requirements together and try to find somewhere we can practice the spells. I have a list of the topics and spells we are supposed to know somewhere…" began Hermione as she started rummaging through her book bag.

"Actually Hermione," interrupted Susan before Hermione could get on a roll, "we had someone in mind to teach us."

"Really? Who?" Hermione asked looking up from the mass of books and scrolls she was rifling through. Harry was interested as well; he didn't think any of the other professors would be able to teach them without Umbridge interfering.

"Before we get to that, Harry can you mark which spells on this sheet you know and add any defence spells or spells you learned for the Triwizard to it?" asked Padma as she slid a piece of parchment and quill in front of Harry.

Harry looked down at the list of what looked to be about thirty or forty spells suspiciously. Finally, he started checking off the ones he knew, which turned out to be all of them save four or five. He then silently looked through the list and added at a few he knew that hadn't been mentioned, like the Patronus Charm and the Point-Me spell.

"Alright," said Harry as he slid the parchment back to Padma, "Now who is this teacher you have in mind?"

Harry watched as Padma's eyebrows went straight up towards her hairline as she looked through the parchment. At her reaction, Susan reached over and grabbed the parchment and then promptly mirrored Padma's reaction.

"You can do the Patronus Charm?" asked Susan slightly incredulously.

"Ummm…yeah since third year…" responded Harry; a bit embarrassed at the impressed looks he was getting from the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs.

"It's corporeal as well!" piped in Hermione.

"No shit! Really?" exclaimed Terry Boot looking from Hermione to Harry.

Harry just looked puzzled, "Corp…a what?"

"Means your Patronus has a solid form, it's more than just mist," said Lisa Turpin.

"Oh yeah, it's a stag," said Harry, his face flushing red as the gazes of those around the table turned from impressed to slightly awed.

Terry Boot let out a low whistle, "Damn, I liked your idea before, Padma, but it's just looking better and better!"

"Not to mention he knows all the spells on the list minus three or four, and knows some new ones as well," added Padma, eyeing Harry appraisingly.

Harry could now dimly see where this was going, and shot Hermione a questioning glance. She only responded with a smug look that made him internally groan; she had clearly already figured it out.

"Again, so who's the teacher you had in mind?" asked Harry, repeating his earlier question as he tried to steer the conversation away from himself, hoping he had come to the wrong conclusion. As all eyes locked on him, Harry realized he had been right, and didn't like it one bit.

"You cannot be serious…me? Teach you all? I doubt I know all that much more than you all if anything…how can I teach?" exclaimed Harry.

"Actually Harry, the list of spells we had you go through was for O.W.L _and_ N.E.W.T standard…and because of all the shoddy instruction we have received the last few years, not to mention this year, we only knew seven of the spells between all of us here, not including Hermione, and we are all within the top 15 in our year to give you an idea," said Padma.

Harry blinked a few times in shock. "Yeah but…there is no way…I mean a lot of you are better students…I mean Hermione is way better in classes…I don't know what I'm doing…" stammered Harry, glancing between Hermione and random members of the group seated at the table.

Hermione interrupted Harry's disjointed speech with a huff and a roll of her eyes. "Oh Harry…First of all, you have always been the best in DADA in our year, if not the school. The one year we had a fair, knowledgeable teacher, third year, you came in the top of the class by a wide margin. Second of all, between everything you have been through if you don't know what you are doing then I doubt anyone does."

Harry just bit his cheek, "I mean I got out of all that stuff with a lot of luck, I don't really think it was my own skills…"

"I'm pretty sure I don't know the full story about what you two are talking about," interjected Terry, "but that bit of flying against the Horntail sure as hell wasn't just luck."

"And I doubt you could get through the second and third tasks last year with just luck," added Ernie.

"Not to mention the rumours about what happened to you at the end of our first and second years," said Anthony. "If even parts of any of them are true then I would want you as my defence teacher any day."

"I'm sure those rumours were just crazy overblown stories," Harry said quickly before Hermione could mention anything.

"Aye, some of the stories were pretty crazy," laughed Terry, trying to lighten the mood. He noticed Harry getting more and more frantic and didn't want this to be an interrogation. "That one old senile portrait of Ignatius Porticus the Third on the fourth floor once insisted to me that the monster controlled by the Heir of Slytherin during second year was a 100 foot basilisk that you slew with Godric Gryffindor's sword, that you pulled out of the Sorting Hat to boot, in the Chamber of Secrets while saving some first year. I mean…how barmy is that?"

Harry and Hermione both froze while Terry was speaking, looking at each other quickly then straight at their laps. The pair's actions did not go unnoticed by the group.

"Wait…you mean," began Justin Finch-Fletchey before the power of speech failed him.

Harry chanced a glance at the group and saw the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs all staring at him with wide, questioning eyes.

"Well, it was more like 80 feet," mumbled Harry, trying to avoid the awe filled gazes of his year mates.

"Merlin…" breathed Lisa Turpin while the rest of the group just looked at Harry in shock.

"Well that settles it, I definitely want to be learning defence from you, especially compared to that ignorant toad masquerading as a professor we have now," said Terry with a roaring laugh.

"Look," began Harry, "I really still don't think I'd be a good teacher. I mean I guess I know some stuff and Defence is my best subject but all those things I had a lot of help with and a pretty big dose of luck. Not to mention I don't know the first thing about teaching or anything so…"

"Harry Potter, you listen here!" interrupted Susan Bones fiercely. "You know better than anyone that we are all in danger, so we need to learn how to defend ourselves. I don't care if you don't know the first thing about teaching because Umbitch or whatever her name is sure as hell doesn't either so no matter what you will be better than her. You _are _going to help us learn these spells that our atrocious defence professors haven't taught us so we can pass our O.W.L's. You _are_ going to teach us how to defend ourselves as best you can so that when You-Know-Who starting coming after our families and us we aren't pigs sitting there waiting to be slaughtered. No "buts" and stop being too humble to do it! Got it Potter?"

Susan had been working herself up as she ranted, staring right into Harry's eyes with a determined gleam and moving herself closer and closer until she was mere inches away from his face. As she had moved closer Harry had noticed her smooth alabaster skin, pretty eyes, and high cheekbones and quickly realized that Susan Bones was both quite beautiful and at least a tad scary.

"Yes ma'am," replied Harry breathlessly, while the rest of table burst into a cacophony of laughs and giggles as the brave Gryffindor was subdued by the feisty Hufflepuff.

"Hey Bones, by the look on Harry's face you just might be scarier than a basilisk!" Terry roared jovially.

"Shut it, Terry," Susan said, her glare quickly silencing Terry.

"Well she clearly has that whole "gaze of death" thing down," Terry muttered under his breath, which forced Anthony and Padma to stifle giggles.

"Moving on," began Padma, "I thought we could meet about once a week, work on whatever you think we should work on Harry, and try to find an empty classroom to practice spells in."

"We will have to keep this a secret, particularly from Umbridge. She would definitely find a way to shut us down and probably give us detentions for no reason until Christmas," replied Harry.

"What about if others want to join? I can think of some other Gryffindors that would be interested. Also what about people from other years?" asked Hermione.

"The reason we didn't spread this around too much was we realized we would need to keep it a secret from Umbridge, too many more people and we might as well put an add in the Daily Prophet knowing how rumours run rampant at Hogwarts. Plus it is already going to be bloody impossible to find somewhere for us to practice spells secretly," replied Terry.

"What if you invite two or three more Gryffindors and we look around for somewhere we could somehow practice secretly with a larger group. We can start with the smaller group of around a dozen of us and then if and when we find somewhere we can invite more people. In the meantime we should probably get going, it's almost curfew, Harry can let me know when we should meet for the first lesson after our next DADA class," said Padma.

Everyone quickly agreed with Padma's idea and packed up before bidding their farewells and leaving for their respective dormitories.

"Well, that wasn't exactly what I expected," said Harry as he and Hermione walked up one of Hogwarts staircases towards Gryffindor tower.

"No, but I still think it's a great idea. Who from Gryffindor should we invite?" responded Hermione.

"Ron of course, I was thinking Neville too for now. I would say the twins, Angelina, and Katie as well but that would be too many people. We'll have to try to find somewhere in the castle we can practice with that many people. For now I think it's a pretty nice group though, and the meeting went pretty well considering," replied Harry.

Hermione just gave Harry a smug look and smirked knowingly.

Harry just shot her a puzzled glance, "What's with the look?"

"I'm just saying I think any teenage bloke say that it had gone "pretty well" when he was seated between two of the prettiest girls in our year and once of them was right up in his face," said Hermione slightly teasingly.

Harry flushed red with embarrassment and mumbled something under his breath about nosy friends, which just caused Hermione to roll her eyes. They walked in silence for a few moments. As they turned the corner Harry thought he had escaped any more questioning from his best friend/near sister as he could see the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"So?" Hermione asked with an appraisingly look at Harry, who was now mentally berating himself for jinxing it.

"So what…" responded Harry, hoping it was an innocent question.

Hermione muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'bloody boys' under her breath before turning to Harry as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. "So…which one did you think was prettier? Which one did you like more?"

Harry just threw back his head and groaned, before muttering the password and climbing into the common room without responding; knowing he had only delayed the inevitable. Why were girls so good at asking questions that didn't seem to have right answers, thought Harry.

* * *

**A/N: Reviews are always appreciated! **


	5. The High Inquistor

**A/N: Found some internet! Here is the next chapter! Please continue to read and review, I'm thankful for all the feedback!**

* * *

**Chapter 5: The High Inquistor**

"What the bloody hell is a High Inquisitor?" asked Ron.

"Language Ron! Especially around the first years!" shrieked Hermione in response.

Harry thought Hermione was fighting a lost cause, which she seemed to do a lot, but didn't say anything as his attention was fully focused on the bulletin board in the Gryffindor common room. On it was posted a large poster printed on cream-coloured parchment, with a picture of the professor who had surpassed even Snape as Harry's least favourite at Hogwarts.

_**Ministry of Magic Announcement: October 5th**_

_**Educational Decree #4**_

_**The Ministry of Magic hereby creates the position of High Inquisitor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to ensure that the curriculum and organization of the school is in line with Ministry standards. The High Inquisitor will have the power to make curriculum and staff adjustments and recommend new educational decrees to the Minister's office. The Ministry will expand such powers as necessary.**_

_**Educational Decree #5**_

_**The Ministry of Magic hereby appoints Dolores Umbridge, current Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor and Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, to the position of High Inquisitor.**_

_**For more information on the above stated decrees please see the full texts within the Ministry of Magic's Hall of Records.**_

"I wonder what the other three decrees were?" mused Hermione.

"Two of them were probably the ones that allowed the Ministry to appoint Umbridge in the first place," responded Harry.

"Yeah, but again, what does being High Inquisitor actually mean?" said Ron as the trio began walking out of the common room and down to the breakfast.

"Reading between the lines, and from what we have seen from her, it sounds like she is going to start inspecting other teachers and classes," replied Hermione.

Harry flinched for a moment when he heard that as he realized something. "Maybe it's a good thing Hagrid isn't back quite yet the." Harry had been starting to worry more and more about the missing effusive Gamekeeper. Hagrid had been missing since the beginning of the year and Professor McGonagall had refused to answer any of their questions about his whereabouts.

"Why?" asked a puzzled Ron.

"I don't feel that inspection would have gone well. Hagrid is already completely loyal to Dumbledore, so that would be one strike against him. If you add in the fact that he is a half-giant…" said Harry.

At their latest defence study group meeting a few days ago everyone had been disparaging Umbridge, a relatively common topic, when Terry revealed that his father had told him she was in deep with the Pureblood and anti-creatures political lobbies. This had only given Harry more reasons to hate her and had caused Hermione to rant a good thirty minutes about house-elf, werewolf, and other creatures rights.

"Yeah, but just wait until she inspects McGonagall's class!" grinned Ron. "Maybe our dreams will come true and she will turn transfigure Umbridge into something for a demonstration, like fake Moody did to Malfoy last year."

The rest of the walk down to breakfast was filled with complaints and insults directed at the Umbridge. The trio's remarks only became more offensive after they read a _Prophet_ article claiming that Umbridge had been a "great success" thus far at Hogwarts.

"How can she be a great success when she hasn't even done anything!" said Hermione quietly. "She's not even teaching us anything!"

"I think that might be the Ministry's definition of success at this point," quipped Harry.

As the Gryffindor fifth years left breakfast for the Transfiguration classroom, Ron quipped that, "maybe McGonagall will turn her into a toad and then _accidentally_ banish her to a jungle somewhere," to a laughing Harry, Seamus, and Dean. It was a testament to just how much Hermione disliked Umbridge that she didn't chastise Ron for the comment.

Professor Umbridge wasn't in Transfiguration, however, and the class was spent on vanishing turtles. Professor McGonagall graced Harry with a rare smile as he fully vanished his turtle within the first half of the period, only moments after Hermione. He was only one of six students, along with Hermione, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott, to accomplish the task by the end of the period.

"You really have been taking your class work a lot more seriously lately, Harry," mentioned Hermione as they walked out of Transfiguration.

"Yeah, well, I have a pretty big motivator to do so…" Harry replied with a shrug.

Hermione gave him a teasing look. "What's the motivator? Maybe trying to impress someone?"

"More like I realized I should prepare myself as best I can considering I have a crazed Dark Lord after me," deadpanned Harry. His response shut Hermione up rather quickly as he split off from her and Ron to head to his Ancient Runes class.

Ancient Runes had rapidly turned into one of Harry's favourite classes behind Transfiguration and Charms. Though the work could be tedious and involved a lot of memorization the practical aspects of Ancient Runes were very appealing to Harry. It had been a bit awkward considering he was two years older than almost everyone else in the class, but Professor Babbling was an extremely understanding and helpful teacher.

Professor Umbridge was absent from Ancient Runes as well that day, though Harry thought that Professor Babbling had little to worry about. They spent the class period translating and inscribing Elder Futhark runes after handing in some homework. Though they hadn't had an exam yet, Harry definitely felt that his work was at least at an Exceeds Expectations level. He was even considering self-studying during the summer to see if he could catch up to his own year and eventually sit for the Ancient Runes N.E.W.T.

After Ancient Runes Harry sped down to the Great Hall to meet up with Hermione and Ron for lunch before Care of Magical Creatures. Once Ron had inhaled enough food to begin speaking without his mouth full the conversation turned to a topic Harry thought they had pretty much beaten to death the last few days: where could they practise DADA?

"I still say the Chamber of Secrets, place has got to be pretty big and its not like Umbridge would ever find it," said Ron while grabbing a sandwich from a platter.

"Yeah, but I don't think we are going to be able to get Fawkes to run some sort of taxi service to get out of there," said an exasperated Harry.

"The Chamber also has a giant rotting basilisk down there, which would be an issue, so we are going to have to try to find somewhere else," added Hermione.

"Umbridge would probably eventually catch on to an empty classroom, especially with too many people. Its already kinda dangerous with our small group now, especially with her new powers and stuff," said Harry.

"But we aren't doing anything against the rules, so she can't technically do anything!" exclaimed Hermione.

"Yeah but since when have the rules mattered? She would just change them or make something up to at least me in trouble," Harry responded with a shrug.

"Well, maybe someone else has come up with a place," replied a hopeful Hermione.

"Considering they don't have the map I doubt it, but hopefully," responded Harry pessimistically.

"We could always ask someone. The twins have wandered most of Hogwarts, they might know somewhere, I reckon they know the place better than anyone except Dumbledore and the house elves," said Ron.

"I doubt they know anymore about the castle than we do since they were relying on the map though," replied Hermione doubtfully.

"But Ron's right, we might know someone who knows the castle better than any of us!" interrupted Harry, as he grabbed his book bag and started quickly striding out of the Great Hall, ignoring Hermione's cries to wait.

Harry turned the corner out of the Great Hall, ran up a staircase and down a corridor until he found an empty alcove.

"Dobby!"

The eccentric elf appeared with a pop, giddy with delight. "Does great wonderful Harry Potter sir need Dobby?"

"Err…actually all I had was a question. I need somewhere to practise spells and stuff in the castle for like at least twenty or thirty people. Somewhere secret, where nobody could find us, especially Umbridge. Can you help?" Harry asked hopefully, trying to ignore the fact that Dobby seemed to be wearing a polka dotted tea cosy on his head.

Dobby's large ears drooped for a moment in thought before perking up again and the small creature began bouncing like a hyperactive pogo stick. "Oh yes the place is called the Come and Go Room by the house-elves of Hogwarts or the Room of Requirement by wizards. It is a magical room! Does great Harry Potter sir want to see it now? Dobby can show you now!"

Harry was about to agree in his excitement until he realized he would be late for his Care of Magical Creatures class.

"I actually have class right now but you think you could show me in a couple days, at night?" asked Harry.

"Of course Harry Potter sir! Dobby will be most happy to show the great Harry Potter then!" exclaimed Dobby.

"Err…right then, I'll be off. See you then Dobby. Oh and thanks!" finished Harry as he headed towards the main doors and out onto the grounds. He saw Ron and Hermione halfway to the spot where Care of Magical Creatures was held and jogged to catch up to them.

"Harry! Don't run off like that without explaining things! Where did you go?" exclaimed Hermione as Harry joined them.

"I just took Ron's advice and asked someone who knows the castle better than we do for a place to practise Defense away from Umbridge," replied Harry.

"Who?" asked Ron.

"Dobby," responded Harry.

Ron and Hermione's jaws dropped before the redhead spoke again. "Brilliant! Did he know a place?"

Harry decided to play around with his two best mates, knowing what he was about to do would drive Hermione particularly mad.

"Maybe…" he replied with a sly grin.

"Harry! You can't leave us hanging! Where is it!" yelled Hermione, drawing attention from Lavender and Parvati just ahead of them.

"Hermione! Quiet! You'll both find out in a couple days, alright," whispered Harry.

Hermione was prevented from questioning Harry further by their arrival to Care of Magical Creatures while Ron just seemed to shrug it off. Harry felt Hermione's glare, however, piercing through occasionally as Professor Grubby-Plank, wrapped in a strange fur coat that seemed to change colours, lectured the class on bowtruckles.

* * *

Xander rested Disillusioned on one knee just outside the wards of Malfoy Manor. Sweat poured down from his brow and he had a pounding headache. He had been working for the last nine days trying to break down the wards around Malfoy Manor's apparition point. Today alone he had spent over five hours trying to do the magical equivalent of a cat wiggling its way through a minute gap in a fence. Xander was getting close to stopping and calling in a few favors with some much more experienced Cursebreakers he knew.

Wards were tricky and particularly interesting bits of magic. They came in thousands of different permutations, from simple proximity charms that an average teenage wizard could cast to Mayan Death Wards, which were supposedly created by human sacrifice rituals and then powered by the rather gruesome, magic draining, deaths of anyone that tried to cross them.

With the exception of some incredibly powerful or obscure wards, breaking them was generally rather easy. Expend enough magical power onto them and eventually they will wear down. This brute force method has a downside, however, in that it has about the same amount of subtlety as riding an elephant naked through Diagon Alley. Breaking down a ward without disturbing it or alerting any possible occupants of a warded location, now _that _was practically an art form.

The wards around the Apparition point of Malfoy Manor were testing the very limits of Xander's skill and were far more complicated than any of the wards he had found on at the other Death Eater homes. He estimated the manor was around 900 years old, probably from when the Malfoy family arrived in England during the invasion by William the Conqueror. The wards appeared to have been updated continuously since then, using a host of different runic alphabets, and had a number of tricks and traps that Xander had never even heard of.

Xander was now at the very last level of the wards. They also happened to be the newest, from their construction and magical signature that they had been put up within the last ten or twenty years. Xander was overwhelmed at their complexity and was about to give up on the spot until he noticed something rather…strange.

"There is no way there is that big of a hole in this thing…has to be a trap…" muttered Xander under his breath.

Xander cast some runic revealing spells, a Cursebreaker's bread and butter, to show the arrays at work around what seemed to be a serious gap in the wards. He then watched in shock as the runes, Sumerian from the looks, popped out and slowly morphed into English.

_Lucius Malfoy is a giant piece of shit!_

Xander jaw dropped before he took a chance and pushed his magic through the hole in the wards. He felt the wards accept his magic and Xander calmly stood up and walked through into Malfoy Manor's Apparition point, before promptly collapsing in laughter so loud he had to silence himself.

"Note to self…don't insult warders…vindictive jerks!" Xander thought as he Apparated away.

* * *

"This might be the most utterly brilliant thing I've ever seen!" exclaimed Terry Boot as he wandered over to set of swords.

Harry had to agree with Terry; even after four years of Hogwarts the Room of Requirement was rather awesome.

"Yeah this is awesome, thanks a ton Dobby," said Harry.

"Great Harry Potter sir does not need to be thanking Dobby as it was Dobby's pleasure. Dobby must be off to the kitchens to work so please call if you need anything else!" responded the excitable little house-elf, this time sporting a burnt orange tea cozy, before disappearing.

Harry looked up to see Justin Finch-Fletchey still staring at the space Dobby had just occupied. As a muggleborn, it had been his first encounter with a house-elf.

"Most bizarre little creature," the Hufflepuff boy muttered while shaking his head.

Harry looked up and surveyed the rest of the room. The space was quite a bit bigger than a normal classroom and appeared to be the ideal Defense classroom. The floor was a warm cherry hardwood and the ceiling was fifteen or twenty feet high. In one corner was a stack of large red cushions, which Harry knew would be useful for practicing Stunning.

On the right hand side of the room was a large bookcase that went all the way to the ceiling, filled with tomes large and small. Next to the bookcase was a large hip-height oval oak table covered with various trinkets and objects. Harry saw Hannah Abbott pick up a Sneakoscope but didn't recognize most of the other devices on the table.

On the left side of the room stood a large complete suit of armour, just like the ones that could be seen throughout Hogwarts. Next to the suit of armour there were a couple dozen swords of different shapes and lengths resting on stands bolted on the wall. The men of the group had immediately wandered over there to examine them. Harry saw Ron pull down a rather large broadsword and buckle under its weight.

"I don't think it even needs to be said, but this place is pretty much perfect. Now the question is how do we want to go about having more people join," said Susan as she walked over from the bookshelf to stand next to Harry.

"I mean, how many more people do you think are going to want to join?" said Harry skeptically. Harry felt like he had done a pretty good job as a teacher over the last month, the group was now casting Disarming spells and Body-Bind Hexes perfectly, among other things. Nevertheless, he was skeptical that there would be that much more interest among the student body in learning defence from him. The vast majority still thought he might be some sort of crazed psychopath.

"I can think of at least a dozen Gryffindors who will in a heart beat," said Hermione, pulling herself away from one of the books the room had supplied.

"Yeah, I mean at least like Dean, Neville, Ginny, the Twins, the three Chasers girls, Lavender, and Parvati will want to. Probably Lee Jordan and there could be some of Ginny's or the Twins' friends that will want to also," replied Ron, who had put down the broadsword before causing any damage.

"What about Seamus?" Lisa Turpin questioned.

"Doubtful, though he doesn't completely believe the _Prophet_ he's made it fairly clear he doesn't believe me either," said Harry, keeping his emotions check. _That_ had been a particularly tense and dividing conversation in their dorm room a few weeks ago. It had been Neville, of all people, who had ended up fiercely shouting down Seamus, earning him a lot of points in Harry's eyes.

"Well I can think of maybe four or five more Hufflepuffs," said Susan.

"About the same for Ravenclaws," Padma said before tentatively adding, "and maybe two or three Slytherins."

"Sssnakes?" spluttered Ron venomously.

"Who?" asked Ernie.

"Tracey Davis, Daphne Greengrass, and Blaise Zabini. I know them from Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, they are sort of outcasts within Slytherin House since they don't fawn over Malfoy," replied Padma.

"All good students as well," Hermione added nervously, glancing sideways at Ron.

"But they are bloody Slytherins! We can't trust them!" bellowed Ron, his face a pale red.

"Not every Slytherin is Draco Malfoy or Pansy Parkinson. Stop being so childish!" retorted Susan, glaring a bit at Ron.

Ron's face was slowly growing closer and closer to his hair colour, which Harry knew was a bad sign. "They are all basically junior Death Eaters, why the hell should we teach them stuff they might be using on us in a few years!"

"They are not all junior Death Eaters! Death Eaters came, and are from, every house. There are people fighting You-Know-Who from Slytherin too!" shot back Padma.

"Psh, name one good wizard that fought against the Death Eaters last time around from Slytherin," scoffed Ron loudly.

"Mad-Eye," said Harry. He spoke softly, but in a way that still carried everyone's attention. "Mad-Eye Moody was a Slytherin, and you can't question his credentials. Also, one of the most despicable Death Eaters I know was a Gryffindor."

"Hell, Merlin was also in Slytherin," pointed out Terry Boot.

Ron clamped his jaw shut, momentarily speechless due to the fact that his entire argument had been soundly rebutted. Ron Weasley, however, has never been known for qualities like logic, tact, and tolerance. So he naturally proceeded to thoroughly shove his own foot in his mouth.

"Whatever, everyone knows that dark wizards are from Slytherin. Those bints will probably just hex us and turn us over to Umbridge or something. I think it's a bloody dumb idea by you girls to let Slytherins in"

The subsequent explosion of screaming and hexes from the girls caused the boys not named Ron Weasley to duck for cover, or fear becoming collateral damage. Harry found himself in the opposite corner of the room, crouching behind a shield charm he had thrown up with Terry Boot. They both winced sympathetically as Padma cast a particularly vicious Stinging hex right onto Ron's lips.

"Padma seems especially….well…" trailed off Harry.

"Bloody pissed and violent?" supplied Terry, to which Harry just nodded as they watched the aforementioned Ravenclaw bellow at Ron. Harry could only catch the words "tactless", "idiot", "clueless", and "arse".

"Well, this was probably coming at one point or another…she's still a bit put out about the whole Yule Ball. That and she, Mandy, and Lisa are actually pretty friendly with the Slytherins she mentioned, Ron really managed to bollox things up for himself here," said Terry.

Harry just nodded vigorously as he watched Ron's skin turn an angry red, not from his temper as per usual, but from the sheer number of Stinging hexes he was receiving. Over the last month Harry had quickly learned that Padma was quite different from her Gryffindor twin. She wasn't big gossiper nor did she turn into a silly giggling mess over a magazine or clothes. Calm, cool, and collected was how Harry would describe Padma, though with a bit of a mischievous streak. Padma, however, for all her somewhat mature qualities, was still a teenage girl, and clearly still harbored a grudge towards Ron for ruining her Yule Ball, which even Harry knew Hogwarts girls had viewed as some sort of nearly sacred event. As he watched his best mate cower in fear, Harry made a mental note to find Parvati and beg forgiveness for his own transgressions.

"We should probably stop them though, this isn't getting us anywhere," Harry said to Terry.

Terry looked at Harry and raised his eyebrows. "I'm telling you now, if I get hexed I will blame you."

"Fair enough," Harry responded with a chuckle.

The two emerged from behind Harry's shield charm and walked over to the commotion.

"Erm….alright I think that's enough, right? This isn't exactly getting us anywhere…" Harry said tentatively.

The girls stopped yelling and hexing but still stood there glaring at Ron, hands on their hips and wands still out.

"Look, you can invite the Slytherins but I think it's a moot point because I doubt they are going to want to learn anything from me. If on the impossible chance they do come, Ron will keep his mouth shut," said Harry.

"And if he doesn't, you all can tie him up and use him as a target for spell casting," piped in Terry, which earned him a bit of a glare from Ron.

"Damn straight we will!" said Susan, who's features had softened and was now looking at Harry with what he thought were an extremely pretty set of cerulean blue eyes.

"When should we have the first meeting, then?" asked Ernie, who had emerged from another corner of the room with Anthony and Justin when it became clear that spells had stopped flying.

"Today's Thursday, so how about Sunday night? Like right after dinner, say eight? We still would have a couple hours before curfew and we are allowed around the castle so we should be fine," said Harry thoughtfully.

Everyone agreed and moments later Harry was heading back to the Gryffindor common room with a still slightly cranky Hermione and a thoroughly chastised Ron.

* * *

Xander waved his hand and muttered _Tempus_, causing the date and time to appear in deep blue writing just in front of him: _Saturday, October 9th, 1995. 5:40 P.M._

"Should have known, that man is always late," muttered Xander as he sat down in the armchair in his room. He pulled out a pen and a thin leather notebook from his pocket and opened it to the first page. The page was a list of skills or spells Xander wanted to learn and was divided into three neat titled columns: _Easy_, _Hard/Time Consuming_, and finally _Mythical/Supposedly Impossible_.

Xander pulled out his main wand and vanished "Percipemency" from under the _Hard/Time Consuming _label. While he would naturally keep practicing it, the skill was now at a level that it wasn't urgent to spend time training it. Xander's eyes scoured the rest of the page. The spells under the 'Easy' heading would take him no more than twenty or thirty minutes total to learn. They were mostly just reminders to look up simple spells; like charms that would remove stains from a carpet or a new blade sharpening charm someone had mentioned to him.

After vanishing 'Percipemency', only one thing remained listed under the _Hard/Time Consuming _category: _Animagus Transformation._ "I'll get around to that one…probably should go pick up some books on it soon…hopefully my inner animal isn't something completely useless…" thought Xander while chewing on his pen absent mindedly.

The last column, _Mythical/Supposedly Impossible_ had a list of a half dozen skills or abilities that any wizard would kill to have. Some were only found in legends, like the _Seven Godly Self-Transfigurations_. Only three wizards had supposedly ever accomplished the spell, the last was an Incan sorcerer about 600 years ago, and only bits were ever found of the wizards who tried and failed.

Other things on the list were just purely theoretical, like _Counter to the Avada Kedavra_. "Even if I managed to come up with something, testing that one would be a bitch," thought Xander as tapped the incantation for the Death Curse in his notebook with his pen. "What am I going to do, walk up to someone and ask them to cast it on me and just hope whatever I came up with works?"

Xander closed the notebook and tossed on top of his trunk a few feet away before leaning back in his chair and cracking his knuckles. "Moot point anyway, I never even have the time to explore the possibility of any of those crazy pieces of magic because I'm always traveling and working…longest I've ever spent in one place is like four or five months…Hell I don't even technically own a home, my damn mail address is Gringotts," Xander thought.

Xander was interrupted from his thoughts by a knock, well more like a bang, on the door.

"Yo, Alejandro! Open up!" Xander heard Raine Talbot yell in his cheery voice. Xander popped up from his chair and opened the door to find Raine standing there in a faded brown leather jacket, wearing a pair of aviators.

"Miss me, Zombie?" Raine asked he and Xander embraced and slapped eachother on the back.

"Well I didn't miss the fact that you manage to be late for everything," replied Xander dryly.

"Oh yeah, sorry about that, had a bit of a hold up closing out my bar tab at the hotel I was staying at in Spain…turns out I bought the whole place drinks a couple nights ago and couldn't remember…" responded Raine sheepishly.

"Typical," said Xander shaking his head. "Come on, I have a private booth for us downstairs, we can get some dinner and you can tell me what brought you back here so quickly."

* * *

"So what are we going to do?" Tracey directed to Daphne and Blaise. They sat in a generally unknown corner of the library, valuing the privacy it provided.

"We sure as hell haven't learning anything in DADA so far this year, so if we want to pass our O.W.L's, or just know how to defend ourselves, it could be a good idea," replied Blaise. He sat in an armchair hunched forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and looked quite stressed.

"If the rest of Slytherin found out, however…" Daphne said trailing off.

"Oh Merlin, imagine Draco's reaction," Tracey said with a chuckle.

"He's not the one I'm worried about, but the some of the seventh years who are pretty much unmarked Death Eaters at this point, and could curse us to oblivion." replied Daphne.

"Only reason Draco has so much power in Slytherin is his father. House of ambition and all that," said an annoyed Blaise.

It was well known that Draco Malfoy was only a slightly above-average wizard who lacked the cunning the Slytherins so prized. Nevertheless, he still had most of the Slytherin House at his fingertips, as his father was probably the most connected and powerful man in Great Britain at the moment. Lucius Malfoy was more than happy to call in favors or secure Ministry positions for Slytherins that fawned over Draco.

"Getting back on topic, what are we going to do?" asked Tracey.

"I say we go, we need to learn something if we don't want to fail our O.W.L's and you have to admit between the rumours and the Triwizard, Potter will probably better than any of the teacher's we have had, save Lupin," said Blaise.

"I agree, though I also think we should have a way to try to protect ourselves from the consequences," replied Daphne with a calculating tone.

Tracey looked at Daphne skeptically. "What, like a contract? I doubt anyone will go for that, particularly the Gryffindors."

"Hell, I'm surprised we got invited if it's Potter teaching. I know we are friendly with Padma and the other Ravenclaws but you would think this is going to be mostly Gryffindors. Ronald Weasley would probably have a similar reaction to Malfoy at our presence," supplied Blaise.

"I swear he must have some sort of Vanishing charm in his stomach to eat so much. What causes his manners, on the other hand, is probably another Vanishing charm somewhere in his skull. Now moving on from that prat, I was thinking of some sort of contract, but perhaps suggesting it to Padma so she could announce it as her idea", then I think it might be accepted," said Daphne coolly.

Blaise nodded approvingly. "Especially if it is phrased universally, not just "don't tell other Slytherins", then it won't seem as targeted."

"A fair few of them are still going to pretty damn suspicious," said Tracy.

"We'll deal with, they'll hopefully figure out pretty quick that Slytherin's reputation these days at the school isn't because of us," replied Daphne with a shrug.

Harry was hyperventilating. He would grudgingly admit he had had his fair share of crazy experiences, particularly at Hogwarts, but nothing had prepared him for public speaking. Locked in a cupboard by the Dursleys? Not helping. Saving the Philosopher's Stone? Not helping either. Slaying a Basilisk? Nope, not helping. The Triwizard Tournament? Still not helping.

Nevertheless, he was now standing in the Room of Requirement with at least 30 of his fellow students stared at him expectantly. Next to him stood Hermione, Ron, Terry, Padma, and Susan, on a slightly raised podium that the room had provided. Their presence was probably the only reason he wasn't feeling even worst.

Harry took a deep breath and was about to start speaking when he was promptly cut off.

"Alright everybody!" Hermione yelled in a rather authoritarian manner. "So now that everyone is here…" Harry could tell everyone had expected her to turn the floor over to Harry once she had everyone's attention. Instead Hermione began rambling.

After about thirty seconds people were starting to look a bit bored. Harry spotted Terry giving Hermione an incredulous look while Padma and Susan were slowly starting to glare harder and harder at the bushy haired Gryffindor.

About two minutes in, while Hermione was saying something about what O.W.L standards were, people had either begun daydreaming or looking at Hermione like she was absolutely crazy.

Harry sighed; he should have expected something like this. Hermione was a control maniac, though she had hidden it well Harry could tell that she had been frustrated the last few weeks that the Defense group had been Padma and Susan's show, with Harry as the teacher and leader to boot. It had only been a matter of time until she tried to assert herself.

"Oye! We want Harry!" bellowed Fred, interrupting Hermione. George, along with a few other students who joined in, then started a football style "Harry" chant.

Hermione's face was a mixture of emotions; Harry could see the embarrassment, hurt, and displeasure in her expression. She opened her mouth to speak and promptly Susan's hand clapped over it.

"Let's give the mob what they want, Hermione" said the Hufflepuff redhead, quelling Hermione with her hardened gaze.

Harry, still quite nervous, stepped forward with his hand raised, immediately quieting the chanting.

"So…erm…while I'm sure whatever Hermione said was very important, I'll be giving you the quick version of what we are doing and how this is going to work. First of all, I'm sure you have all noticed that Defense Against the Dark Arts has become well, even worst than History of Magic."

"Yeah, you can't even do work for other classes in it like with Binns," grumbled Dean Thomas. Harry saw many nodded their heads in agreement.

"Well," started Harry, "some of us decided that since we still need to know how to defend ourselves against the Dark Arts, since no matter what the Ministry might say there is danger out there, we should take matters into our own hands. The Triwizard tournament last year made me learn pretty much all of the O.W.L and N.E.W.T standard defense spells and curses, along with some other cool and useful stuff. The idea we had is that we could meet something like once or twice a week here and I could teach everyone what I know and actually practice how to defend ourselves, not just read theory out of a stupid book."

Once Harry had finished, he nervously ran his hand through his hair and saw many of his schoolmates break out in whispers. "Erm…yeah…that's about it. I guess if anyone has any questions ask away?" Harry finished tentatively.

"When would we meet? There are members from the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw Qudditich teams here so we would need to work around that," asked Angelina Johnson, the Gryffindor team's captain.

"Actually the whole bloody Gryffindor team seems to be here," Harry heard Zacharias Smith mutter. The three chasers and twins were there, and the only new addition to the team was Ron. Harry's best mate hadn't had the best tryout but had beaten out Cormac McLaggen because, as Angelina put it, "McLaggen is a bloody prat and we would probably kill him before our first match".

"We will work around it, but we will make sure it doesn't interfere with anyone's Quidditich practices. The days we meet will probably change, which is probably for the best as we'll be less likely to get caught," said Harry.

"What do you mean by "less likely to get caught"?" asked an older looking Hufflepuff Harry didn't recognize.

Harry bit the inside of his cheek momentarily. "Look I'll be blunt. I am pretty clearly one of the Umbridge's least favorite people. That and the fact that she and the Ministry don't want us to learn how to defend ourselves means that I'm pretty sure we would get in big trouble if we were ever found out. With her new position, Dumbledore wouldn't be able to help us either. So yeah, just know doing this does have some risks. But at the same time, going out into the world without any idea of how to defend yourself is probably even more risky. Voldemort," Harry just ignored the flinches, "is back and theory out of a book isn't going to help you against Death Eaters. And well even you believe the _Prophet_ and think I'm a crazy delusional liar, you still have to admit the world isn't completely without danger. So seems like a good idea to be able to defend yourself."

"Hear, Hear!" shouted Fred and George, which caused Harry to smile. A brief silence followed, and Harry was just starting to feel relieved that his foray into public speaking was over, until a voice cut through the silence.

"What the bloody hell happened in that maze that makes you and Dumbledore so sure that You-Know-Who is back?" asked Zacharias Smith, slightly arrogantly.

Harry immediately paled, the memory of Cedric's body, the graveyard, and Voldemort flashing in front of him. That was one question he definitely didn't want to answer. Harry wasn't even sure he _could _have answered.

"Well, I feel like I need to ask, what the bloody hell happened in your life that made you such a tactless prat?" yelled back Terry Boot from Harry's left.

Zacharias Smith looked somewhat indigant at Terry's rebuttal, and was about to respond when a glaring Susan Bones cut him off.

"I wouldn't answer Zach, unless you want to continue digging your own grave."

Zacharias Smith gulped and backed down, while one of his friends from Hufflepuff, Wayne Hopkins, put his hand on Smith's shoulder while glancing warily at Susan. Harry didn't blame the two of them; Susan could be rather scary at times.

"Alright, since we are done, I thought we would start practicing. I was thinking _Expelliarmus_ just for tonight," said Harry, who had recovered from Zacharias Smith's question.

"The Disarming Charm? That's it?" scoffed Stephen Cornfoot, a 6th year Ravenclaw.

"It saved my life last June," shot back Harry stonily, which shut the Ravenclaw up rather quickly. "Besides, even if you know it this is a good chance to practice your casting speed and aim, both of which are just as important as what spells you know. So everyone split up into pairs and I'll…ummmm…come around and help if I see anything."

Everyone nodded and paired off. Within a minute or so the Room of Requirement was filled with yells of _Expelliarmus_ as faded blue bolts of light sent wands flying. Harry walked around and spent most of his time helping some of the younger students, like the tiny second year Dennis Creevey, with their wand movements.

After half an hour Harry switched activities and had dinner plate sized targets, provided by the Room of Requirement, placed on one of the walls. Harry smirked when Stephen Cornfoot, the Ravenclaw who had scoffed at practicing the Disarming Charm, struggled to hit his target. The twins, on the other hand, were incredibly accurate, just a smidge worst or even on par with Harry.

"Aiming is pretty important when hitting people with hexes and jinxes for pranks!" explained Fred with a mischievous glint in his eyes, while George nodded approvingly behind him.

After a few more rounds of target practice, Harry realized that it was getting late and they needed to wrap up to make it back to their common rooms by curfew.

Harry shot sparks in the air to get everyone's attention. "Alright great job everybody. There is some room for improvement but we'll get to that next time. I'll also show you one or two other spells when we meet again. How's Thursday night? That's when Slytherin's Qudditich team uses the pitch so it shouldn't interfere with any practices."

Everyone murmured in agreement, and Harry exhaled in relief; teaching and leading this larger group was turning out to be easier than he expected.

"Before everyone leaves," Padma cut in, "there is one more thing we need to do."

Harry, along with many others, glanced at her quizzically.

Padma summoned her bag and dug out a piece of parchment before speaking again. "Well, earlier we talked about how this needs to stay secret. So I think it would be a good idea if we all signed a contract to not talk about what we are doing to teachers and other students. Oh we should also come up with some sort of group name for this, since "

"Is this contract magically binding?" asked Su Li, a Ravenclaw from Harry's year.

"Sort of. Basically it's not like a legal contract or anything. Just if you tell someone about the group, or who is in it, to anyone who's name isn't on the parchment, there is will be consequences. Nothing life threatening or permanent, just enough to _discourage_ anyone from betraying the group." Padma said the last part with a mischievous smirk that made it rather clear you didn't want to find just what would happen.

Harry looked around at his schoolmates; no one was outright protesting, but everyone was a little uneasy. His eyes rested on the trio of Slytherins from his year that had showed up, much to his surprise. Their reaction was the one he was most interested in; while he was trying to keep an open mind, and he wasn't about to react like Ron did to their presence, his experiences over the years with Malfoy still made him suspicious.

As a result, what happened next completely surprised Harry.

"We'll sign it," said Daphne, motioning to Blaise and Tracey. "Still need a name though."

The fact that the Slytherins were the first ones to agree to the contract opened the floodgates, as no one, particularly none of the Gryffindors, wanted to be perceived as less trustworthy than a Slytherin. Soon everyone had agreed to sign the contract, and was yelling out possible names for the group.

"How about "Umbridge is a Bitch'" yelled George Weasley, for which he received a slap on the head from Katie Bell.

"The "Defense League"" suggested Anthony Goldstein, to some approving nods.

"Can we please call it "Fight Club"" roared an excited Dean Thomas, to the general confusion of the purebloods in the crowd.

They eventually settled on "Defense Association" or, DA for short. Ginny had tried to have it changed to "Dumbledore's Army", but Harry had vetoed that, which seemed to hurt Ginny quite a bit more than he expected. While he agreed it would be funny, Harry didn't want to give Umbridge any more ammunition in case she ever caught wind of what was going on. Harry knew Umbridge wouldn't see the name as the sarcastic joke it was.

Once everyone signed the contract, people drifted out in small groups back to their common rooms. Within a few minutes Harry, exceedingly happy the meeting had gone so well, was walking with Ron, Hermione, Dean, Lavender, and Parvati back to the cozy Gryffindor common room.

* * *

Xander sat in a darkened corner of Malfoy Manner's Apparition point. He was Disillusioned, under a Demiguise hair Invisibility Cloak, and had a Notice-Me-Not charm placed on him; if Xander was anything it was thorough. He watched through squinted eyes as another couple in extremely expensive dress robes arrived.

"Well tonight's a bust…Pettigrew isn't showing up to a fancy dinner party anytime soon," muttered Xander under his breath once the couple had gone.

Xander quickly left the Apparition point and Apparated to Nott Manor. Based on the charms he had set, Malfoy Manner seemed to get the most traffic, so he had spent most of his stake out time there. Xander had seen a number of suspicious characters the last few days while at Malfoy Manor, including a few he knew as Dark artifact smugglers, but unfortunately hadn't seen a single trace of Peter Pettigrew. Nott Manor had the second most traffic, so Xander decided to spend a few hours there. "Hopefully I'll get lucky," thought Xander wearily.

* * *

Harry sat in Defense Against the Dark Arts, pretending to read the textbook. He could feel Umbridge's eyes upon him. Without even looking up he could mentally picture her, sitting there in another ridiculous pink outfit staring at him a sickly yet menacing smile, just waiting to see if he did anything, anything at all, that would allow her to drag Harry into a detention. So far, however, since Harry's first week of detentions, he hadn't slipped up.

As Harry stared down at Chapter 11 of _Defensive Magical Theory_, not actually registering a single word, he mentally smirked. "How little you know you toad...even if we can't in class, we are still learning how to defend ourselves right under your nose." Harry had to control his smile as he mentally planned that night's DA meeting, where Harry would be teaching Stunning and leading more accuracy drills.

* * *

Harry was chilled to the bone. "Angelina is definitely channeling Oliver," grimaced Harry as he removed his rain soaked clothes in the Quidditich locker rooms. Their match against Slytherin was in just a few weeks and Angelina had the team practicing like mad. That included the two-hour practice she had just conducted in pouring cold rain on a Friday evening, much to the team's grumbling.

"I guess it's worth it as long as we beat Slytherin, though," thought Harry as he slipped on his school robes and quickly hurried back towards the castle. He decided not to wait for Ron, as he knew Angelina was keeping him late to do extra Keeper drills. Harry soon passed through Hogwarts' main doors, walking by a number of pumpkins decorating the pathway. Halloween was in two days and the House-elves seemed to have decided to decorate for the entire weekend.

Harry felt a bit apprehensive for Halloween, something significant always seemed to happen; the troll incident his first year, the reopening of the Chamber his second year, Sirius' attack on the Fat Lady his third year, and his name emerging from the Goblet of Fire last year. Harry didn't think they were all necessarily _bad_ events; the troll incident had led to his and Hermione's friendship while Sirius' attack on the Fat Lady wasn't anything dangerous in retrospect.

"Sort of positive things happened my first and third year…and negative things happened my second year and last year…so hopefully that means I'm in for something decent this year?" Harry thought, idly walking up a set of stone stairs as he made his way to Gryffindor tower.

After a few more twists and turns through Hogwarts' stone corridors, Harry had reached the Fat Lady. Climbing through the portrait hole, Harry saw that the common room was relatively full and alive with chatter. Harry walked over to Hermione, who he noticed had a slight scowl on her face.

"What's going on?" Harry asked.

"Well, good news and bad news," replied Hermione. "Which do you want first?"

Harry sighed, "Bad news first I suppose, best get it out of the way."

"New Educational Decrees. Umbridge now has the right to review and change all punishments given to students. Also all lesson plans for all classes have to be approved by her beforehand from now on," Hermione replied.

Harry's face quickly turned into a scowl. Now he knew that any punishments he received would probably turn into detentions with Umbridge, and another set of scars on the back of his hand. The favoritism would get worst too, the woman seemed to fawn over Draco and a few others and Harry was sure that she would be even worst than Snape in canceling punishments for those students.

"Good news?" asked Harry, looking for something positive to take his mind off the "Umbitch", as Susan called her.

"Hogsmeade weekend next week," said Hermione, eyeing Harry teasingly. "A good opportunity to ask someone on a date if you have your eye on somebody."

Harry groaned; Hermione seemed to take some sort of perverse joy in teasing him about the possibility of romance with his new female friends. The upcoming Hogsmeade weekend was just going to give her a whole new set of material to use. Harry could only pray to the Fates that the Twins didn't pick up on Hermione's teasing, or, Merlin help him, Sirius. If his Godfather caught wind, he would never hear the end of it come winter break.

* * *

Xander was squatting on the cold muddy ground in the corner of Malfoy Manor's Apparition point. It was dusk and the horizon was a glowing orange tinted streaked with velvety purple.

"At least it isn't raining like yesterday," thought Xander as he kept his senses on alert.

A hard _crack_ pierced the silence and Xander perked up to see who had arrived. The man was tall with broad shoulders and blonde hair, clearly not Peter Pettigrew. Xander sighed and watched as the man walked towards Malfoy Manor, his thoughts drifting.

"Wonder what they do with those peacocks when it gets really cold," Xander thought idly as he stretched his hand.

Minutes passed, then hours. Night had fallen and Xander gazed at the stars, which were particularly bright and luminous, as the previous day's storm had cleared the air of Muggle pollution. Xander looked down just in time to see someone approaching the Apparition point from Malfoy Manor.

Xander instantly knew it wasn't the blonde man who had arrived earlier. The figure approaching was short and weedy looking. He wore a black cloak with the hood pulled down, obscuring face. Xander knew the body type was a perfect match for Peter Pettigrew but without seeing his face he couldn't be completely sure.

As the man got closer and closer to the Apparition point, Xander realized he only had a few seconds to make a decision. He could either hope it was Pettigrew and grab the man here before he Apparated, or try and trace his Apparition to confirm the man's identity before grabbing him.

Xander bit his lip, his mind racing. "Apparition tracing is a crapshoot…. especially since he might be Apparating to a warded location I can't get to…no got to make the grab here."

The cloaked figure was now about a dozen steps from entering the Apparition point. Xander briefly glanced at the Malfoy Manor; it was reasonably far from the Apparition point, but a spell could still be seen if someone was looking, particularly the bright red of a Stunner.

Xander stood up and lifted his wand, pointing it in the direction of the cloaked figure and Malfoy Manor. What Xander was planning was going to take all of his skill and absolutely flawless timing.

The cloaked figure was now only four steps from entering. Then three. Then two. Then one.

"_Corrua Forma Praestrigia,"_ Xander muttered as quietly as possible, casting the spell just the moment the figure crossed through the main wards of Malfoy Manor.

In the sunlight, if a well trained wizard had been looking for it, one would have seen some sort of disturbance in the air, like the haze one sees coming off of asphalt on a burning summer day, originate about 20 feet above the ground just at the edge of the Apparition point. This disturbance formed a line about another 30 feet across and quickly dropped down, as if someone was lowering it like a window shade, to the ground, forming a huge invisible rectangular wall. The Apparition point now looked completely empty to anyone looking at it from the direction of Malfoy Manor, a feat of magic that far exceeded the average wizard's capabilities.

Xander didn't rest on his laurels, however. In one smooth motion he finished the wand movements for the illusion spell and cast a powerful Stunner right at the cloaked figure from a blind angle. The bolt of ruby red light hit the man square in the back, dropping him right into the mud.

Xander sprinted over, grabbed the man's arm, and Side-Along Apparated him back to Xander's room at the Leaky Cauldron. Once there, Xander, still moving like lightning, his body pumping with adrenaline, grabbed the hood of the man's black cloak and ripped it back, letting out a feral grin as his swirling eyes took in the man's face.

"Why hello there Mr. Pettigrew. You are looking rather healthy for a dead man, though I have a feeling your stay in the land of living isn't going to be too much longer."

* * *

**A/n: For those of you following from my older story, the next chapter will probably be one of my most reworked ones. Xander is way too powerful in the old version. **


	6. Monster

**A/N: This took awhile. I feel like I've fully rewritten it a dozen times at this point. Some were utter shit. Some may have been a little better than this version, but didn't fit the plot of the story. I ended up using one that was more similar to my original than I thought. I tried to make Xander's victory a bit more tactical than raw-overpowerment. It may still seem too powerful for now, but I feel like aspects that come up later in the story will cause it to make more sense. I also cut down on the number of Death Eaters/Werewolves he took down throughout the chapter. **

**I still don't know how I feel about it to be entirely honest. This may be one that I come back in 3 months, done with this story, and plug in a rewrite if I ever figure out something better. But at this point, I felt like I'd put it up and see people's thoughts.**

**ALSO: I'm looking for a beta! Especially since I'm getting into new stuff that I'm writing (it will be here soon!) and for chapters/sections like this one, where I am looking to rework a decent amount, I'd love to have some input. That and I'm notorious for being a bit lazy on spell-checking runs. So PM me if you are interested!**

**P.S: Many of you have commented about wanting to see Harry's growth, skills increases, etc. It's coming. I promise. The whole chapter of new stuff I've written is pretty much solely on that. If you are impatient and want a tease PM me and I can send a paragraph spoiler if you want or something. **

* * *

**Chapter 13: A Monster**

Xander set Peter Pettigrew down on the ground before binding his hands and feet, and pocketing Pettigrew's wand. With a wave of his wand Xander silently revived Pettigrew and then promptly silenced him before he could speak.

"Alright, let's find out what actually happened in this whole mess," said Xander, his eyes locking onto Pettigrew's.

Xander would have preferred to use Veritaserum, as it was a lot easier and less morally questionable. Veritaserum, however, had a significant downside; you had to know exactly what questions you wanted to ask. One could easily miss information by simply not asking the right question. Thus, Xander decided to use Legilimency to get the full picture.

Xander could feel the shock and fear as he broke into Pettigrew's mind, which was absent of any defences. He saw everything, Peter taking the Dark Mark, murdering wizards and muggles, giving Voldemort the information on the Potters. Xander had been fairly shocked to find out Pettigrew was an Animagus as he watched Peter frame Sirius for everything, he definitely didn't seem like the calibre of wizard that could manage the transformation. Xander had then skipped over most of Pettigrew's memories and delved into the events of the previous June. Xander watched Voldemort's resurrection, the duel with Harry Potter, and the boy's escape before returning to his senses.

"Well that part had a whole book full of magic I don't know…the ritual was definitely odd, some combination of necromancy and blood magic with a lot of crap thrown in I don't understand. And that shit with the wands was just weird," thought Xander as he contemplated the events he had just seen, before refocusing his eyes on Pettigrew. Xander looked down at the pathetic man before him with complete disgust.

"You are an absolute fucking bastard, aren't you?" Xander sneered, before Stunning Pettigrew again.

Xander levitated Pettigrew's body into a corner of the room, contemplating the situation. "Well, the British Ministry definitely gave Sirius Black a shit sandwich. Based on the contract, I definitely don't need to go after him since Pettigrew is the only guilty one here."

Xander let Pettigrew's body drop with a hard thud on the wood floors of his room, he didn't feel the need to be particularly gentle after what he had seen.

"Now the question is, what the hell do I do now?" Xander muttered under his breath.

Usually, a bounty hunter would just take the captured bounty just takes whoever he or she captured to either the local Ministry of Magic or to the Ministry in whichever country the bounty was issued. Even though this was being run through the ICW, Xander was still supposed to turn Pettigrew over to the British Ministry.

Xander, however, saw some fairly large problems with just strolling into the British DMLE with Pettigrew. First, the British Ministry was expecting Sirius Black, not to be told they had completely mucked things up all those years ago and stuck an innocent man in Azkaban for over a decade.

Second, he was about to deliver undeniable proof that Voldemort was back. That, along with the whole miscarriage of justice in the prosecution of Sirius Black, was enough to completely bring down the Fudge administration, and probably rock the entire British wizarding political system.

Third, over the past couple months Xander had seen first hand just how much pull and influence Death Eaters had within the Ministry. He knew they had effective control of at least two or three departments, a significant voting bloc on the Wizengamot, and probably had agents or sympathizers in every department.

"The Ministry is really like enemy territory…Fudge has already shown he is a power maniac…he'd want to cover it up. The Death Eaters don't want to be revealed, so they would too. I walk in there, and I doubt I'm walking back out. Either straight up kill me or send me to Azkaban on a trumped up charge," thought Xander coolly, as he analyzed the situation.

"I need to do this on my territory…or at least neutral ground. With plenty of witnesses, ones that aren't just Ministry officials…preferably somewhere warded as I don't want Voldemort and a bunch of Death Eaters swooping in…and I need a place soon because at one point someone is going to realize Pettigrew's missing…"

A plan was steadily forming in Xander's mind. He knew there was one magical location in Britain that fit what he needed. It would be a highly unusual spot to turn in a bounty, but Xander didn't feel he could be too picky at the moment.

Moving swiftly, Xander got out a piece of parchment and his Gringotts transfer box from his trunk. Xander didn't exactly have a dozen owls lying around to inform everyone he needed to himself, so his solution was to have Gringotts do it. They'd probably charge him, but if all went according to plan in less than twenty-four hours Xander would be 2.5 million galleons richer anyway.

As he wrote out the names of people he wanted contacted, Xander smirked. "Since it's my party…I get to decide on guest list don't I?"

* * *

Sharpclaw was about to leave his office and call it a day when a young goblin clerk knocked on his door.

"Message for you from the transfer box, Branch Manager Sharpclaw," said the clerk as he came in handed the parchment to Sharpclaw.

"Thank you, Bolthead," Sharpclaw replied, before dismissing the young goblin with a wave of his hand.

Grabbing the piece of parchment, Sharpclaw sat down wearily. It was extremely late, the only reason he was still at his office was he had just finished a conference call with the Gringotts Board of Directors; the return of the wizarding Dark Lord Voldemort had them asking for constant updates.

Slipping on his reading glasses, Sharpclaw began skimming through the message, his eyebrows skyrocketing upwards. He reread the message, and the list of names to contact, twice just to make sure he wasn't seeing things before bursting out into a wide smile.

"Seems not every human on this island is utterly incompetent!" he thought.

"Bolthead!" he yelled, causing the younger Goblin to pop his head into the door.

"Yes, Branch Manager?"

"Get the secure mail owls and the transfer box to the ICW ready. We have another hour's worth of work tonight," ordered Sharpclaw, some of his weariness forgotten.

"Yes, Branch Manager."

"I think I am going to enjoy myself quite thoroughly tomorrow," thought Sharpclaw excitedly as he began composing letters.

* * *

"Alright now that that's done," thought Xander as he put away the Gringotts transfer box back in his trunk.

With a wave of his hand the time appeared; it was just before midnight.

"About 18 hours until the show starts," Xander muttered.

Xander walked over to the stunned and bound Pettigrew. He quickly removed a dagger that was strapped to his ankle and cut off the left sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark.

"British Ministry is sure as hell going to kick out of seeing that," thought Xander with a mental laugh.

As Xander was examining the Dark Mark, he watched in surprise as it suddenly glowed red for a moment before reverting back to black. Xander felt the magic roll off the Dark Mark temporarily.

"Whoa…definitely not just any tattoo," Xander thought as he ran his fingers over the tattoo before withdrawing his hand quickly. With Xander's sensitivity to magic, the Dark Mark had felt almost _clammy_.

Xander now pulled out his wand and started casting diagnostic spells on the Dark Mark, trying to figure out just what he was looking at. Xander was an extremely curious person and took in knowledge like a sponge. In Xander's opinion, the more magic you know the more likely you are going to be able to survive any situation, and Xander's life so far had been one long lesson in survival.

After a little over ten minutes of poking and prodding at the Dark Mark, Xander was even more curious and quite a bit disgusted.

"This Voldemort asshole really knows his magic…including the Dark stuff. You would need to be at least a Charms Master to come up with this…not to mention the thing has elements of Necromancy, Blood Magic, and some junk I don't even know what to think of…" thought Xander.

His mind drifted to the magical tattoo on his own back. "Can't even compare them…hell I wouldn't even call this thing a tattoo…it looks like it's even somehow connected the bloodstream…"

Xander's silent pondering was interrupted by the door of his room being blasted open. Xander rolled to his right and drew both his wands from his wrist holders, casting a Stunner straight at the door with the wand in his right hand.

As his vision focused he saw the Stunner drop a man in dark robes. Another man, however, emerged from directly behind, wand pointed straight at Xander.

"_Reducto!"_ bellowed the man from less than ten feet away from where Xander was crouched.

With a quick flick and twist of his left wrist, an emerald green shield emerged in front of Xander, absorbing the spell. Xander quickly shot back a Stunner with the wand in his right hand, alternatively casting with both hands.

The man yelled, who wasn't moving from his position in the doorway, an amateur move, yelled "_Protego_", causing Xander Stunner to bounce off and break a lamp in the corner of the room.

Sliding right, Xander cast a Stunner with his right hand while making a sweeping motion with the wand in his left hand.

The man's face looked confident as his shield stopped Xander's Stunner, until the millisecond later when the wooden dresser to the man's left came flying into him, sending the man crashing into a wall with a sickening crunch.

Banishing the door closed, Xander took a deep breath before swearing in a few different languages. "What in the hell…it's barely been an hour…and how the fuck did they where I was…" he muttered, head still pounding from the adrenaline.

Moving swiftly Xander went over and checked the bodies of his assailants. The Stunned man Xander didn't recognize but he had the Dark Mark emblazoned on his left arm. He was young, maybe twenty, and well built.

"Probably the grown kid of a Death Eater family," Xander thought as he moved over to the body crumpled against the wall. Xander didn't even have to check for a pulse, the man's neck was clearly broken. Ripping the man's left sleeve, Xander saw that the man wasn't marked. He then twisted the body over to see the man's face, and was surprised to recognize him.

"Huh, the Spanish guy Raine was tracking a couple months ago…the potions master or healer who went apeshit or whatever," thought Xander.

Xander grabbed the body and dragged it to the doorway. Poking his head out of his door, he cast proximity charms at the end of the hallway to alert him if someone was coming. Raine's room was a few doors down from Xander's, so Xander hefted the body, kicked down the Raine's door, and very unceremoniously chucked the body into the middle of the room.

"He can deal with it, probably give me some shit about leaving a dead body in his room, but hey he'll be making some money off it," Xander said under his breath as he repaired the door and quickly went back to his room.

Moving swiftly, Xander shed the simple leather jacket he had been wearing and slipped on a long, hooded, dragonhide jacket that was a dark forest green. Then strapping his two swords onto his back, he fished a charmed rucksack out of his trunk.

Walking over to Pettigrew, Xander took out his wand and cast a spell of swirling blue and white light, forcing Pettigrew into his Animagus form. He then quickly transfigured a cage from the lamp broken earlier in the fight, cast a few spells on it to make it virtually indestructible, and plopped the still stunned rat version of Pettigrew into the cage.

"Really is a fitting Animagus form," Xander thought as he put his trunk, which he had shrunk, and the cage into his rucksack, before slinging it onto his back.

Before Apparating away Xander walked over to the marked Death Eater, still lying on his floor, and tapped the man's robes.

"_Portus_"

The robes flashed blue, and a moment later the man disappeared, transported into a dumpster in Muggle London.

"Unfortunately, he probably won't freeze to death," thought Xander as he Apparated away.

* * *

"Have they still not returned?"

The voice was cold and sharp, with the slightest tinge of irritation perceived only by those who had served the Dark Lord the longest.

"No my Lord, Flint, Espinosa, and Pettigrew are still gone," replied Lucius Malfoy, kneeling before his Master in the dining room of Malfoy Manor.

The Dark Lord drew his wand and weaved it through the air silently, a pair of gaseous neon green arrows appearing. The slits that housed Voldemort's eyes narrowed even further as the arrows pointed in two separate directions.

"Interesting…" Voldemort hissed out.

"What is it, my Lord?" asked Lucius, still kneeling and truly hoping that his Master's irritation wouldn't be turned on him.

Voldemort pointed his wand at the two gaseous green arrows, shrinking them to the size of large needle, before encasing them in orbs of glass, which levitated in front of the group of kneeling Death Eaters.

"It seems that young Mr. Flint has somehow ended up in muggle London. Pettigrew is also no longer at Diagon Alley…" said Lord Voldemort, bringing a pair of fingers up to scratch at his nose. Though many would no longer consider Voldemort human, he still needed sleep like all other creatures. Thus, the Dark Lord's mood was not improved by the fact that all these problems had some how managed to arise just before one in the morning.

"Flint!" Take a pair of men and go find your son. There had better be a reasonable explanation as to why he has not returned with Pettigrew and how he ended up in Muggle London or there will be…consequences."

Flint Sr. gulped and nodded before quickly leaving the room, grabbing the orb that pointed towards his son's Dark Mark.

"Parkinson! Rowle! Go find Pettigrew. Inform me if you encounter difficulties."

* * *

**Watling Chase Forest - 1:34 A.M**

Xander was kneeling in front of the cage that contained Peter Pettigrew, scratching his head as he kept poking his wand at the rat.

"Well there aren't any tracking charms on him, so how in the hell did they know where I was so fast?" said Xander, thinking out loud.

Xander slid the cage back into his rucksack, still disconcerted by the events of the last couple hours.

"A fluke? Maybe they had monitoring charms on all the rooms at the Leaky Cauldron? Tom doesn't seem like he would inform for the Death Eaters but still you never know…at least they shouldn't be able to find me here, I can just wait it out," thought Xander as settled in.

Xander's confidence was thrown out the window, however, when he felt an intrusion on his proximity charm.

"Two people…the hell...how are they finding me without tracking charms," Xander thought incredulously as he Disillusioned himself and started moving. There was little doubt in his mind whoever had arrived wasn't there by accident; who else would appear in an obscure part of Watling Chase forest at the earliest hours of the morning?

Xander treaded softly, popping in and out of trees, trying to find catch a sight of whoever had showed up while staying hidden. He could have just Apparated away, but Xander wanted to know how they were tracking him.

Creeping behind a tree, he saw the two men moving together through the trees about twenty-five yards away. They were dressed in ink black robes; the only reason Xander spotted them was the moonlight reflecting off the gleaming ivory masks they wore.

"Definitely Death Eaters then…" Xander thought as he ducked out from the tree and hid himself behind a decent size boulder, drawing both wands that were holstered to his wrists at with minimal movement.

About ten yards in front of Xander was small depression before the terrain rose back up towards the boulder Xander hid behind. Xander took out his main wand and steadied his aim slightly off-centre from the depression.

The pair Death Eaters closed in, clearly walking straight towards Xander, moving side-by-side and looking around, clearly searching for something.

Just as they hit the slight depression, Xander acted.

"_Bombarda"_

Spell impacted the ground just in front of the two men, sending them flying off their feet and pelting them with debris. One of them was immediately out cold, and as the other one came around, he blearily saw Xander charging towards him, wands out.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_," the man bellowed desperately.

Xander neatly sidestepped, and launched two separate cutting curses at the Death Eater on the ground. The first one removed the man's arm. Thorfinn Rowle would have screamed in pain at losing his limb, if the second cutting curse had not detached his head milliseconds later. Still moving, Xander cast a Stunner at the unconscious man, making sure he would stay down, before casting another set of proximity wards and stepping towards the two fallen Death Eaters.

Xander quickly noticed a glowing green orb at the base of the stunned Death Eater's feet, filled with a ghastly green arrow. The arrow inside was somewhat unnervingly pointed directly at Xander.

"What the hell? How can this be working? There aren't any tracking charms on Pettigrew or me…hell other than my tattoo and his Dark Mark…"

The revelation hit Xander like a sledgehammer, and the silence of the forest was momentarily broken when Xander's palm connected with forehead.

"Stupid…stupid…stupid…the damn Dark Mark…" Xander thought, mentally berating himself in every language he knew.

Xander crouched down on one knee and chewed his bottom lip, tapping the ground as he looked at the two Death Eaters, formulating a plan.

"Voldemort has a near perfect way to track me. Well, this just turned into a shit storm," thought Xander as he stood up. Pulling out his wand, he grabbed two rocks from the ground and tapped them.

"_Portus"_

Working quickly, Xander flicked his wand at the dead Death Eater's arm, severing it completely, before dropping one of the blue rocks onto it and watching it disappear.

"Doubtful, but hopefully sending one of the Dark Marks to Wales will buy me some time," thought Xander, before shifting his gaze to the unconscious Death Eater.

Xander looked down at the man, his face unreadable. Killing in battle was one thing, but execution was completely different. It was something Xander had never done, and hoped he never would have to do, for the sake of his sanity and soul. Nevertheless, that didn't mean he was just going to leave the Death Eater unscathed.

Moments later, poor Marcus Flint received a new collection of bruises as his comrades' body landed on him with a dull thud. His injuries, however, were nothing compared to Robert Parkinson's, whose legs were now broken so badly the kneecaps appeared to be facing the wrong direction.

* * *

**2:57 A.M- Malfoy Manor**

Marcus Flint trembled nervously as he knelt before Lord Voldemort, having just finished recounting what had happened. Lord Voldemort did not look kindly upon failure.

"Can you tell me _anything_ about the man who defeated you so easily?" asked Lord Voldemort, his voice dripping with displeasure.

"I only had a brief glance before I was incapacitated, my Lord," replied Marcus, steeling himself.

Lord Voldemort raised his wand and twirled it in front of him, before conjuring a glass vial in front of the Death Eater kneeling before him.

"I will need the your memory of what happened to determine if there is anything useful to be obtained from this…_miserable_ failure. If there is your punishment may be…forgone," said Lord Voldemort.

"You are most generous my Lord," replied the relieved Death Eater before removing the placing the memory in the vial.

"Yes I am. Now go tell the healer's that as soon as Parkinson is conscious I want his memory as well. You are dismissed," replied the Dark Lord with a wave of his hand. Once Marcus Flint left the room, Lord Voldemort began barking out orders while creating the relevant Dark Mark tracers.

"Yaxley! Take four of the more experienced new recruits and assassins we have and track this man. Do not engage him, simply follow and report back to me. The Dark Lord them turned to one of his most faithful servants for one last order.

"Lucius, bring Fenrir to me."

* * *

**Same Time – Forbidden Forest, Hogwarts**

"Well…I'm fucked," said Xander as he stood just outside Hogwarts' wards, which weren't allowing him entry. From what Xander could tell they had gone into some sort of lockdown mode, probably for nighttime hours, and based on the sheer magical power they contained it would take a small army of Cursebreakers days to make a dent in them.

"And I'm not going to stand here with a bull's-eye on my back looking for a loophole or two…" thought Xander as he backtracked deeper into the forest, constantly casting Proximity Charms. As soon as he felt them triggered, Xander Apparated away with a single thought on his mind.

"Catch me if you can…just catch me if you can…"

* * *

**8:42 A.M –Diagon Alley**

Xander weaved his way through Diagon Alley, sticking to the most populated parts as he tried to lose his followers in the meagre early morning crowds. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead and his breathing was slightly laboured from magical exertion.

Apparition is not simple magic; there is a reason most countries prevent young wizards and witches from doing it. It requires power and concentration, especially when Apparating long distances. Xander had been Apparating about thirty times _an hour_ for the last six hours, and he was definitely starting to feel the fatigue.

"Stay about an hour, get some food, recover a bit, and get out…can't stay too long," thought Xander as he avoided a pair of small children exiting Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour.

While the crowds provided a portion of safety for Xander in this situation, they also came with their own dangers. Xander knew that it was a matter of time before someone used the crowds against him to slip in close and strike. Additionally, Death Eaters didn't seem like the types the cared too much about collateral damage; something Xander definitely wanted to avoid.

Xander paid for a quick sandwich at an outdoor stand before subtly transfiguring his jacket and melding himself back into the crowd.

"Just nine more hours…" muttered Xander as he made a hard right turn when he spotted a man staring at him off to his left.

* * *

**9:35 A.M – Malfoy Manor**

"My Lord, we continue to track the man, he is now in Diagon Alley. He has been moving constantly and proved…elusive," said a kneeling Yaxley.

"Do not lose him…I will be _extremely _displeased if you do," replied Voldemort, his voice like arctic ice.

"Of course, my Lord."

Voldemort looked up at the rest of his Inner Circle, which was one again gathered in the dining room of Malfoy Manor. Faces were missing from, loyal servants still trapped in Azkaban, to be freed soon. New faces were also present, recent recruits who had proven their loyalty and power.

"Carlos…have you been able to confirm from any of the memories we have gleamed whether this the man you spoke of?"

Carlos Porras turned to his new master, unconsciously scratching at the dark metallic prosthetic hand affixed to his wrist.

"My Lord, I cannot confirm it with absolute certainty, but it looks extremely likely. There are no clear looks at his face from the memories, but his movements and stature are extremely similar," said the Colombian Dark wizard, his accent betraying his origins.

Lord Voldemort simply nodded before turning to the well-dressed blonde haired man sitting directly on his right.

"Lucius, have you determined any pattern in his movements or where he is going to take Pettigrew…and why he hasn't already?"

"Actually my Lord, I have just received news from our agents in the Ministry moments ago. It seems Gringotts has delivered summons for a number of high-ranking Ministry officials, including the Minister and Madam Bones, for this evening."

"Very good, this is certainly not a coincidence, and that means we still have some time. Did our informants discover the location?" asked Lord Voldemort.

Lucius licked his lips confidently before speaking. He had always been a part of the Inner Circle, Voldemort had prized his gold, political connections, and complete lack of morals, but in his Master's second rise he had now become his top lieutenant.

"Yes my Lord, unusually enough the summons are for Hogwarts."

Surprise flitted across many of the faces around the table; even the Dark Lord quirked an eyebrow.

"Interesting…very interesting. Yaxley, you and your men continue tracking. Failure will not be tolerated. Fenrir, you and your pack will lead the ambush. Stay behind for further instructions. The rest of you are dismissed."

As his Death Eaters filed out, Voldemort did not miss the disappointment on Carlos Porras' face. The man had very rapidly risen through the ranks with his prodigious skill and experience; Voldemort rated his duelling skill within among the top five or six of his current servants. He also knew that Carlos had a grudge to settle with his bounty hunter, Alejandro he had called him, but had still decided not to use him. If Fenrir failed and this man managed to get away, Voldemort did not want the extent of his new forces to be known quite yet.

"Soon…not quite yet…soon it will be time. The prophecy will be settled, then Britain, and all the world, will feel my wrath and power once more," thought Lord Voldemort as he prepared to give Fenrir Greyback his orders.

* * *

**6:05 P.M- Forbidden Forest**

Xander knew that shit was about to hit the fan when he felt the anti-Apparition wards go up around him. He hadn't slept in over thirty hours by that point. Between kidnapping Pettigrew, the earlier fight in Watling Chase, and Apparating a few hundred times of the course of the last seventeen or eighteen hours, Xander was dead tired, and solely perpetuating himself on Pepper-Up potions.

He had purposely avoided Hogwarts since early that morning when the wards had rejected him, hoping that the Death Eaters wouldn't figure out what his plan was, which had clearly backfired.

"Looks like they figured it out anyway…should have known…damn Ministry probably has as many holes as Swiss cheese," thought Xander as he jogged through the Forbidden Forest, trying to run his way out of the anti-Apparition wards, eyes pealed for spells.

After about twenty yards of running he came to a decent sized clearing which bordered the Hogwarts wards. He was about to skirt around it when he saw a flash of green in his peripheral vision.

"Shit!" thought Xander as he dove forward, into the clearing, avoiding death by inches. Xander quickly did a Chinese get-up and moved backwards, head swinging wildly. He did not like what he saw.

"Fuck…fuck…FUCK," Xander eloquently thought as he saw himself surrounded by five men in tattered black robes. Xander magical perception felt a weird vibe coming off all of them.

"Look what we have here," growled a sixth man, walking towards Xander from the direction of the Hogwarts wards, "fresh meat. It was foolish of you to cross the Dark Lord." The man, who Xander now recognized as Fenrir Greyback, then lifted his face to sky and howled viciously, an action echoed by the rest of the men surrounding Xander.

"A pack of crazed werewolves…wonderful," Xander thought sarcastically the millisecond before spells filled the clearing.

* * *

**6:05 P.M – Hogwarts Great Hall**

"Odds on Fred and George pranking someone tonight?" asked Dean Thomas conspiratorially at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.

"Arege...mebme…res" gurgled Ron Weasley as he was working his way through a mountain of food, earning a glare from Hermione.

Harry was enjoying himself the Halloween Feast. The food was spectacular, the Great Hall was impressively decorated, and the Gryffindor table rambunctious was particularly rambunctious. Harry looked up at the staff table to see Dumbledore, wearing a black robes with large bright dancing pumpkins, eating a pork chop. Dumbledore's trademark twinkling eyes seemed to be at full force, it seemed even these stressful times couldn't dampen the joy of Halloween.

Harry's attention was jolted away as a whispering began to fill the Great Hall. Harry jerked his head around when he heard Susan's yell.

"Auntie!"

Harry watched curiously as the a stern looking woman with slightly faded auburn hair wearing formal robes walked into the Great Hall, followed by four uniformed Aurors, including the tall dark form of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Wonder what's wrong with Kingsley?" asked Hermione quietly from next to Harry. The man looked extremely nervous, even panicked.

"No idea, he really doesn't look happy…why do you think they are here?" replied Harry.

Hermione gasped before speaking. "You don't think they are here to arrest Dumbledore or something, do you?'

"I doubt it, I mean what would they arrest him for? Discrediting him is one thing…but it's not like they can arrest him…right?" said Harry wildly, as he looked back at Dumbledore, who was walking towards Susan's aunt and the Aurors.

The whole Great Hall's attention, which had been locked on the Aurors, shifted in unison as the doors of the Great Hall opened once again. Harry watched as an extremely pleased older man with brown hair walked in the door, flanked by two men in dark green robes on each side. Behind him entered two men and three women carrying parchment and quills, with nametags fastened on their robes. The older man carried himself with authority, Harry felt like he was watching a judge walking into his courtroom.

"Herr Muller, while certainly not unwelcome, may I ask what has brought the chair of the ICW here tonight? I assume it is probably the same reason that Madame Bones and a quartet of Aurors are here," asked Dumbledore, trying unsuccessfully to hide his extreme shock.

Before the man had a chance to answer, the door to the Great Hall opened again. This time, Harry saw a veritable stream of people enter. First came a few more people carrying quills, parchment, and nametags.

Hermione was the one who identified them, "Reporters, but I don't know what for."

After the reporters, Harry watched as Mad-Eye Moody limped into the room, glaring a bit at all the whispers he received. After him, a middle-aged man wearing a leather jacket and mirrored aviator sunglasses walked in, looking rather grumpy. No one seemed to recognize him, though quite a few of the girls were giving him blushing looks, and the man ended up just leaning against the wall right near the doors of the Great Hall.

Harry then watched as Cornelius Fudge entered the room, guarded by four more aurors. He had an extremely guarded expression; he looked neither happy nor displeased from what Harry could tell. Trailing right behind him was a secretary with extremely shiny light brown hair and then a familiar figure with horn-rimmed glasses: Percy Weasley.

"Bloody git's here too," growled Ron, who had actually managed to stop eating to watch the commotion.

Harry saw the entire Weasley clan grimacing at Percy's presence. Percy had had a falling out with his family a few months ago, choosing the Ministry and ambition over his family. Harry would have felt bad about the whole situation if Percy hadn't implied that Harry was an insane liar. He was supposedly also extremely rude to his father, one of the absolutely nicest people Harry knew, at work.

"Just ignore him, he isn't worth it," replied Harry, glaring at Percy a bit.

"What I want to know," interjected Hermione, "is what is going on? Look at Dumbledore; he doesn't seem to have a clue either. Now, Umbridge looks like she's getting into the mix as well."

Harry looked over t the staff table and saw that Umbridge had gotten over her shock and was now climbing down from the staff table to join the adults milling about in the centre of the Great Hall. The rest of the staff table, however, looked like a troll in a ballerina outfit had just walked into the room, even Snape looked rather unnerved.

Dumbledore suddenly gained everyone's attention with a clap of his hands.

"While it is wonderful to have so many people here to celebrate Halloween, if I may ask, could someone inform me what has brought you all to Hogwarts this evening."

"I believe we may be the best ones to answer that, Headmaster Dumbledore," cut in the raspy voice from the doorway. The whole hall watched with rapt attention as five goblins marched into the hall. Three were clearly bodyguards as they had on dark iron armour; while the other two wore grey suits pants, white dress shirts, and formal blue vests, attire that was surprisingly similar to a Muggle three-piece suit. Harry noticed Umbridge go bug-eyed at the goblins presence. "Probably hates them just like all the other non-humans" thought Harry with disgust.

"Good evening Branch Manager Sharpclaw," Dumbledore greeted one of the uniformed goblins formally, "if you could shed some light on this…well…situation that would be wonderful."

"It isn't too complicated, we are simply here for the fulfilment of the ICW bounty contract for Sirius Black," replied the other uniformed goblin casually.

Harry suddenly heard his heart thumping in his chest and felt faint. He watched as Dumbledore paled to a translucent white, and the Great Hall erupted in whispers.

"No...no…not Sirius…no…No….NO" Harry desperately thought, feeling extremely faint.

* * *

**6:03 P.M – Forbidden Forest**

Xander ducked a nasty looking purple curse before transfiguring the ground in front of him into a round ball of stone to absorb an incoming Avada Kedavra. After the Killing Curse destroyed the shield, Xander skilfully banished the pieces straight at one of the closer Werewolves while sidestepping to his left. Xander watched as the pieces connected with the man's stomach, leg, and head, only for the man to get right back up. A normal man would have knocked clean out for at least a day.

"Damn werewolves and their damn resilience," thought Xander as dodged another Killing Curse.

Twirling like a dancer Xander launched a series of spells designed to slice, crush, and pulverize; he knew there was no time for stunners or binding spells here. He noticed two of his spells connect with one of the werewolf's legs, shattering it completely.

He had not time to think about it, however, as three Killing Curses came barreling straight at him.

"Merde!" exclaimed Xander, as he transfigured stone balls to defend him just in time.

Unfortunately for Xander, the explosions of dirt obscured his vision, and a cutting curse streaked through, slicing through the left sleeve of his leather jacket and opening a long gash from his shoulder to his elbow.

Ignoring the blood running down his arm, Xander transfigured another shield of dirt to block an Avada Kedavra with the wand in his left hand while casting another cutting curse with the wand in his right. His spell connected, slicing one of the Werewolves arm clean off at the forearm, eliciting a howl of pain.

At the same time, however, a Blasting Hex cast by Fenrir Greyback connected with the remnants of Xander's floating ball of dirt, sending Xander flying off his feet and launching him ten feet through the air. Xander landed flat on his back, his trunk and the cage in his rucksack digging into his back.

"Now to rip him to pieces!" howled Greyback. The remaining werewolves advanced quickly, wands out, eager for the kill.

"Fuck," thought Xander as he shut his eyes and quickly waved his two wands while still laying on the ground. The first caused a wave of dust to blast towards the werewolves, slowing them down momentarily. The second lit clearing like a second sun had suddenly emerged, painfully blinding the werewolves.

Xander executed a quick get-up and dashed into the brush behind him, letting off one more spell as he ran. It was an overpowered prank spell, but it covered the entire area with the smell of rotten eggs, overwhelming the werewolves' olfactory senses. Unfortunately, Xander's weren't spared either.

"Hate that spell. Hate werewolves. Hate all this bullshit right now," thought Xander as he dove behind a tree and crouched onto a knee.

"And now I'm fucking further away from the Hogwarts wards," muttered Xander. The maneuver may have bought him a moment, but it unfortunately sent him in the wrong direction.

"Focus! He is back in brush! I can still smell him," Xander heard Greyback roar with frustration, sweeping his arm in Xander's general direction.

Xander took two quick breaths, watching the werewolves move towards him steadily. So far, he had spent the caught by surprise, surrounded, and generally at a complete tactical disadvantage. Now, he was ready to turn the tables. Twirling his wands in his hands, Xander lowered his hood and shook his head, magic subtly emanating from him as he called upon his two biggest weapons; his tenacity and rage.

The first two werewolves watched as Xander popped out of the dim undergrowth twenty feet away. It would be the last thing they would see as Xander slashed his Japanese sword horizontally with his left arm while casting a spell with the wand in his right arm, bellowing at the top of his lungs.

"_PRAETRUNCATO"_

The two Werewolves instincts couldn't engage fast enough, before they had even blinked both had been sliced cleanly in two at the waist, pools of blood now rapidly forming where their bodies now lay separated.

The force of the spell cleared the final remnants of the dust from the area, and Fenrir Greyback finally got a good look at just what he was facing. For just a millisecond he wanted to scoff; Xander's hood was now off and his teenage visage was now out for the Death Eaters to plainly see. Fenrir Greyback, however, did not see a teenager.

Xander's expression was hardened like a polished diamond, and his radiated a sort of artic fury. Fenrir and the other werewolves could feel the magic rolling off Xander in waves, they could sense the emotion imbued within it, particularly after the spell he had just cast. No, Fenrir knew whatever was before him couldn't be described using age or appearance. It was pure instinct that told him he was looking at a monster.

Xander watched as the werewolves all tensed up. As he took a step forward, they instinctively took a step back. Greyback was the first to regain himself, bellowing, "_AVADA KEDAVRA"_ at Xander from behind his men.

Xander moved like lightning, dodging the spell while sweeping the wand in his right hand towards two more werewolves.

"_BESTIAFYRE_" shouted Xander.

The spell, a close relative of Fiendfyre, caused searing beasts of flame to erupt out of Xander's wand, charging down two of the Werewolves. One tried vainly to conjure water to douse the flames, only for a flaming lion to come charging straight through the thin jet of liquid like it wasn't even there. The other tried to run, only to be body-slammed by orange and yellow flames in the form of a bear. Both Death Eaters were reduced to nothing but ashes almost instantly.

Fenrir Greyback and the remaining man began shooting spells at Xander desperately. Panic had gripped them completely and their aim was now wild.

Xander cancelled the fire spell and started charged straight towards the two Death Eaters, dodging or shielding from the few spells that came anywhere close to him. Panic had taken away the werewolves aim and power.

Soon Xander had closed in. He moved the wand in his right hand in a wide sweeping motion, causing a small wave of dirt to engulf the last werewolf other than Greyback and trap him onto the ground, leaving only his head exposed to the air. As the werewolf struggled to free himself, Xander never stopped moving forward, and deftly avoiding Fenrir Greyback's frantic casting, lopped the man's head clean off with his sword.

Fenrir Greyback watched in fearful fascination as one of comrades was brutally beheaded. He was a veteran of the first war, but he had never encountered a situation like this before. To Fenrir, Death Eaters were the ones who executed those puny wizards who only used Stunners or other non-lethal spells. Sure, even in the last war there had been a few, like Mad-Eye Moody, who had been willing to go further, but none had been nearly as…ferocious. As Xander rounded on him, Fenrir could only think that he didn't like being on the receiving end this time.

Xander's eyes locked onto Fenrir Greyback. Holding his ground, he unleashed a veritable storm of the blasting, cutting, and piercing hexes, casting with both of his wands, often simultaneously. Fenrir managed to barely block the spells for a second, then two, and then three seconds.

Xander felt his arms getting heavier and heavier and his entire body tightening with exhaustion. Xander knew if this final barrage failed magical exhaustion would surely claim him.

Finally, the werewolf leader's shield failed, and before he could cast another, a powerful blasting connected just above his right knee. A moment later, a variation of a common piercing hex drilled a bullet like hole straight through his right shoulder while a slicing hex separated Fenrir Greyback's left leg from the rest of his body. One of Voldemort's most feared servants fell face first into the dirt of the clearing, utterly bloody and beaten.

"My master is still stronger than you…he will avenge me!" gasped out Fenrir as Xander strode over and stood looking down at him.

"That's nice," replied Xander emotionlessly as he drew one of his swords and drove it straight through Fenrir Greyback's skull, the blade reflecting the barest of light in the night sky.

Xander dragged himself across the Hogwarts wards, falling into a crouch to try and catch his breath once he had reached safety.

"After all this shit, I swear if a bunch of politicians try to keep my money from me after all this I'm hexing people first, negotiating second. That is if I can even cast a spell at all at this point' thought Xander as he trudged up to Hogwarts Castle while trying to heal the bleeding gash on his arm.

* * *

**A/N: Please Review! I read them all and am very thankful for all of the great ones I've gotten! Shout-out to lightning-king for his mini-novels in review form. All of you are awesome though. **


	7. 15 Years

**A/n: Still looking for a beta if there is any interest. Also, before the pitchforks come out, this will be the last chapter with a lot of Xander. At this point, the landscape I was using the Xander to set-up is almost complete, so we can then focus on Harry. **

* * *

**Chapter 7: Fifteen Years**

Harry watched as the Great Hall fell deathly silent as the door creaked open. Everyone was sitting with rapt attention, staring unabashedly as a single boot clad leg emerged from the doorway into the light, before the rest of the man's figure practically stumbled in; Harry very nearly fainted when he finally got a good look.

"Bloody hell," said Ron from beside Harry quietly.

Bloody was certainly right. Blood was dripping off the man's leather jacket and black cargo pants as he entered, falling onto the Great Hall's stone floor like a painter dripping paint onto a canvas. A sleeve of the leather jacket was missing, revealing a long gash that was still a raw, angry red; Harry could tell it had probably only recently stopped bleeding. The pants were also torn and shredded, with small nicks and gashes visible under the shreds. The man's hood was pulled down over his face, concealing it from view, and two sheathed swords were strapped to his back, underneath a rather worn but sturdy looking backpack. Harry watched as the man sort of lumbered into the room, as if he could barely stand, but still somehow on guard and extremely dangerous, like a wounded tiger.

* * *

After three or four steps the man seemed to realize he was spilling blood onto the floor, and broke the silence in strangely accented English.

"Ahh…Sorry about your floor Headmaster Dumbledore…things got a little….messy."

A pin drop would have seemed like overwhelming noise in the silence that follow. Dumbledore himself seemed to grow extremely pale and for the first time in living memory was rendered completely speechless. Harry's panic raised another few notches, desperately hoping that the blood wasn't his godfather's. His hands turned an ethereal white as he clenched the Gryffindor table hard enough to nearly break his own fingers.

Xander watched with surprise as Dumbledore visage became as white as snow.

'That wasn't what I was expecting…" thought Xander as he stole a glance at Mad-Eye Moody, who was also looking oddly panicked. "Weird…well…not my problem."

"This might take a bit…and I'm honestly bordering on exhaustion…any chance we could get some chairs for everyone around here," asked Xander, internally laughing at the looks on everyone's faces.

Xander's question seemed to snap Dumbledore out of his stupor.

"Of course, my apologies for the poor hospitality," replied Dumbledore while drawing his wand and waving it through the air. Instantly a couple dozen large comfy armchairs appeared in a large circle in the open space at the back of the Great Hall.

"Now before we get started if you would just allow me to dismiss the students…" began Dumbledore, only to be cut off by a forceful Xander.

"No, they will be staying here as witnesses. There is a reason I chose Hogwarts for this, Headmaster Dumbledore."

"But...they are but children…they can't be witnesses!" yelled a stern looking older woman with brown hair pulled into a tight bun from just behind Dumbledore.

Xander rolled his eyes as he sank into the squashy mauve armchair Dumbledore had conjured, if there was one thing he hated, it was the 'but they are only children' argument.

"They have working eyes and ears don't they?"

"Yes...but I must insist," began Dumbledore.

"They are staying. That is final. I can swear they won't be in any danger and they won't see anything…ahhh mentally scarring," replied Xander with finality. He heard Raine chuckle behind him and turned to shoot him a glare.

The rest of the adults, save Raine Talbot, quickly took their seats, having been seemingly revived from their comatose states of shock during the exchange. The reporters all sat fidgeting, quills and parchment already out; they looked like small children on a caffeine kick waiting to go inside a toy store.

"Before you begin, could we see your ICW medallion to confirm your identity?" asked one of the goblins, who appeared highly amused by the whole situation.

Xander fished the medallion out of his pocket, tapped it with his wand cancel to unshrink it, and tossed it over to the goblin, who pulled out a bizarre looking cylindrical device and ran it over the medallion.

"Bounty hunter eleven, Xander. Is that correct?" asked the goblin, to which he received an affirmative nod.

"Now where is Sirius Black!" exclaimed Hans Muller excitedly, the head of the ICW, no longer able to contain himself. This was about to be a major political victory for him.

A wave of whispering that began at Hans Muller's exclamation was immediately silenced as Xander brought a hand up, before swinging around his rucksack to rest just in between his legs.

"I have a very short story," he began, as everyone stared at the rucksack that Xander began to open.

"There was once a man who tricked all of Britain. He tricked his friends, and ended up betraying them to the Dark Lord he serves. He tricked the world, and managed to escape justice. He rejoined his master, helping him to his return, and serving him to this very day, " said Xander clearly, as he pulled Pettigrew's cage out of the rucksack.

Stunning Pettigrew one last time, Xander opened the cage and pulled out the rat, setting it on the floor in front of him. As he looked up he saw Dumbledore's eyebrows shoot straight to his extremely grey hair, before a twinkle emerged in his eyes. "Looks like he knew," thought Xander, before continuing speaking.

"This man, if you can even call him that, also tricked Britain in the one last way. He was an unregistered Animagus, in the form of a rat."

Xander wove his wand, casting the spell to force Pettigrew out of his Animagus form. As the rat morphed into a human, Xander let out a statement to shock the entire Hall.

"I give you Peter Pettigrew, betrayer of the Potters, murderer of at least a dozen muggles, bearer of the Dark Mark, and current servant of Voldemort."

There was perfect silence for one brief moment in the Great Hall as Xander's words were processed. Everyone stared at a slightly ragged, but clearly recognizable, Peter Pettigrew. Then complete pandemonium erupted.

The student tables of the Great Hall broke into whispers, while the reporters began bellowing questions at Xander. Hans Muller and the goblins were simply shocked speechless. The British contingent of wizards for the most part was blustering and shouting accusations of fraud. Once Fudge began yelling about how "preposterous" this all was Xander raised his wand and caused a bullhorn like sound to cut through the air.

"If you would give me a moment, I believe I can answer some of your questions, and accusations," said Xander, immediately regaining everyone attention; the crowd was truly eating out of the palm of his hand.

"First," began Xander as he stood up and rolled back Pettigrew's left sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark for everyone to see, "the Dark Mark."

This silenced and shocked most of the British wizards. Xander saw Fudge grow slightly pale, though the toad looking witch besides him still seemed to muttering accusations and excuses under her breath.

"Second, I think I will ask our guests from the British Ministry a question. Madam Bones, you are head of the DMLE, correct?"

"Yes," replied a slightly confused Amelia Bones.

"Good, now can you tell if Sirius Black received a trial?"

"Err...I believe he was convicted and sentenced in absence of a trial at the time," replied a now red-faced Amelia Bones.

"What!" exclaimed Hans Muller. Aftermath of a war or not, a man convicted without due process was simply inexcusable in Hans Muller's opinion.

"The proof was irrefutable! There were dozens of Muggle witnesses that watched him blow Pettigrew to bits! All we found was a finger!" yelled Fudge defensively.

Xander made a show of inspecting Pettigrew. "Hmmmm, he doesn't really look "blown to bits" to me. A little tattered maybe, one of his hands is silver, though we will get to why later I believe. His other hand, however, seems to missing a finger. What a coincidence!"

A veritable tsunami of epiphanies seemed to sweep through the Great Hall at Xander's sarcastic comment, much to the chagrin of the British Ministry officials.

"He faked his own death!" exclaimed a reporter from the _Wizarding Times_, the premier American magical periodical, as the Great Hall broke out into excited whisperings.

Xander briefly rolled his eyes before rummaging through his pockets for a corked crystal vial. "Well how about we ask him?"

Xander tossed the vial to Hans Muller, who caught it somewhat surprised.

"Can one of your bodyguards can confirm that the vial is Veritaserum."

"We have a potions master on hand, Severus Snape, who may be more of an expert for this situation," interjected Dumbledore.

"No. I refuse to trust anyone with the Dark Mark," responded Xander coolly. Dumbledore, whose eyes had been twinkling madly since Pettigrew's unveiling, looked like he had been slapped across the face.

Hans Muller handed the vial to the robed man just behind him, who uncorked it and waved his wand over it a few times before nodding and tossing it back to Xander.

"Good, so no one will be accusing me of tampering," said Xander as he revived Pettigrew. As Pettigrew was groggily returning to consciousness Xander forcibly opened his jaw and dripped three drops of Veritaserum onto his tongue.

"You cannot do that! Veritaserum is a Ministry regulated substance! Arrest him!" shouted the toad looking witch at Xander, to a number of incredulous looks.

"Lady, I'm an ICW agent. I don't have to follow your rules, whoever you are, and Herr Muller seems to have no problems with my use of Veritaserum. Also, so you know, if you try to arrest me…well how about I just emphasize the word "try" here," replied Xander confidently, drawing one of his wands and twirling expertly in his fingers. The technical term for what Xander was doing here would be "bluffing out his ass". Xander knew that after the day he had, it'd be a miracle if he could cast a dozen Stunners, much less escape being arrested while surrounded.

Hans Mulller just waved his hand in front of him, giving a slight glare at the British witch. "None at all, carry on please."

Xander smirked before turning to Pettigrew. "Now, for starters. What is your full name?"

"Peter Pettigrew."

"Were you the Secret Keeper for the Potters?"

"Yes"

Xander continued his questioning, ignoring the whispers erupting around him.

"Did you reveal the secret to Voldemort?"

"Yes"

"Why did you reveal the secret to Voldemort?"

"Because he is my master." Pettigrew's use of present tense did not go completely unnoticed by the crowd, and Xander could hear the cacophony of whispers grow louder. Still, he pressed on.

"Did you fake your own death for Sirius Black to take the blame?"

"Yes"

"Did you or Sirius Black kill all those muggles?"

"I did."

Xander looked down at the shivering, nervous wreck that was Peter Pettigrew for a brief moment before turning away to face his audience.

"Madam Bones, you and your department can question him about specifics to your heart's desire, but I think that covers the basics. I just have a couple more questions I feel everyone would love to hear the answer to," said Xander, smiling mischievously under his hood.

"Peter Pettigrew, you said earlier that Voldemort is your master. Did you take part in a ritual last June to return Voldemort to his body? Has Voldemort returned?"

The whispers immediately died down as everyone waited to hear Pettigrew's answer.

"Yes," Pettigrew squeaked softly, though the silence of the hall allowed his answer to be carried through to be heard by everyone.

Oddly enough, the Great Hall did not explode into noise, as Xander expected. Most everyone seemed too shocked to speak, though Xander saw that Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, and a few others seemed to be rather pleased. Finally, Fudge managed to break the silence.

"Impossible! He died fifteen years ago! He can't be back!" stuttered Fudge, who seemed to almost willing himself to believe his words.

"Well, did you ever find a body?" asked Xander evenly, though internally he was marveling at the British Minister's stupidity.

"There wasn't a body to be found! There wasn't anything left of him!" Fudge yelled back.

"You mean like you only found "bits" of Pettigrew? You Brits have some rather interesting interpretations of death it would seem," replied Xander.

Fudge immediately paled like a ghost and seemed to lose the ability so speak. The Great Hall broke into a wall of noise. Students were screaming hysterically, reporters were shouting questions, and Hans Muller was chewing out Cornelius Fudge like he was a small child.

Xander turned to the goblins, who had gotten over their shock quite quickly and now looked like they were watching an entertaining comedy routine.

"Master goblins, a quick question if you will," asked Xander in Gobbledegook, taking care to be respectful. Goblins were creatures you didn't want to get on the bad side of; the little Xander knew of their justice system was that it involved a lot of beheadings.

The goblins raised an eyebrow at Xander's use of Gobbledegook, before one of them responded. Xander noticed that their uniforms had very subtle differences; the one on the right had a small English flag imprinted under the Gringotts seal that adorned his vest. The other goblin had the Egyptian flag in the same spot.

"Branch Managers Sharpclaw and Lockleap, what can we do for you?"

"The contract was for 'the betrayer of the Potters', not necessarily Sirius Black. I believe I have completed the terms and would to be paid," said Xander.

Both goblins smirked briefly before responding, "Of course, 2.5 million galleons will be transferred to the vaults of your choosing. All fees will be charged to the British Ministry, so if you want the gold transferred to branches in different countries or to affiliates I would recommend doing so now."

Xander nodded and analyzed his options briefly. "I'll commit one third of the gold to a vault in Gringotts London to be opened under the name "Xander", I'll come into the branch to finalize the paperwork in the next few days. One third I wish to be sent to my vault in Mexico City under the name Alejandro. The last third send to Gringotts Cairo, the vault is under the name Yusuf."

Xander then pulled out some parchment from his bag and smeared some of his blood on it, handing it the goblins.

"I assume that will be enough to confirm the transfers to those vaults? I really don't want to do any paperwork."

"Yes, for a one hundred galleon fee we can simply use your blood, especially for a Preferred Client" responded Lockleap, of Gringotts Cairo.

Xander briefly wondered if he used the "Preferred Client" title due to the 2.5 million galleons he was about to deposit, or whether he recognized that "Yusuf" was _already _a "Preferred Client" of Gringotts. "Probably the latter…damn goblins seem to know everything," thought Xander before responding.

"That'll be fine, anything to avoid paperwork."

"Will there be anything else?" asked Sharpclaw.

"I don't believe so…err wait actually one moment," said Xander as he turned back toward the commotion. Little had changed except Hans Muller had accidentally switched to German while berating Fudge; Fudge clearly had no idea what the man was saying but it did sound pretty scary.

Xander did notice that Mad-Eye Moody was laughing in a corner while Dumbledore seemed to be speaking to his staff, his eyes twinkling madly. "Glad that they at least are happy about this shitshow" thought Xander before firing up sparks from his wand, immediately gathering everyone's attention.

"I just have a quick question while I'm finishing up my business with the representatives from Gringotts. Was there a bounty out for Fenrir Greyback by any chance?"

There was a collective "deer in headlights" moment from the British wizarding contingent before Madam Bones spoke up.

"Err…I do not believe there is…if we decide to put one out for him we will be sure to contact you though."

Thinking of Fenrir Greyback sent a shiver down Madam Bones' back; the reason the DMLE had never considered a bounty on Greyback was they didn't think anyone would be crazy enough to go after him.

"Oh, well…I only asked because you'll find his body along with five other Death Eaters, all werewolves, just outside the Hogwarts wards. Err…what's left of their bodies, anyway."

Everyone, including even Albus Dumbledore, just turned into silent bug-eyed statues with their jaws dropped.

"I think you finally broke them," said Raine Talbot in Spanish, walking up to stand beside Xander.

"Looks like it," replied Xander, as they both tried to keep straight faces.

"You…Greyback…kill…" stuttered one of Fudge's bodyguards.

"Yeah, him and five of his Werewolf and Death Eater friends tried to ambush me after I grabbed Pettigrew. Tried not to kill them…but…well…yeah…Werewolves…you know?" shrugged Xander. The man just kept gaping at Xander wordlessly.

"I don't think rent-a-cop here "knows" anything," laughed Raine, still speaking in Spanish.

Xander just shrugged in response and stood up to grab his rucksack when he tripped over. Xander was not someone you would ever describe as klutzy, but after the kind of day he had, anyone would lose some grace. As Xander stood up, rubbing his forehead and trying to ignore Raine's roaring laughs, he suddenly had a horrible realization. His hood had come off his face. He looked up instinctively, unwittingly giving the entire hall a very clear look at his boyish face.

"Well…shit," Xander muttered as all the reporters began snapping photos while everyone stared in shock.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, is there any chance I can stay somewhere in the castle tonight?" called out Xander, trying to ignore the reporters shouted questions.

"Certainly, you may stay as long as you need. Just allow me to call a house-elf to show you to our guest quarters," responded Dumbledore merrily, giving Xander a rather appraising look.

"Thanks," replied Xander, before turning to the crowd of reporters and Ministry officials.

"Alright shut up all of you. I am tired and I am going to bed. British Ministry, I'll be around for two or three days at least so if you need me you can contact me. After that, it might be significantly harder to find me. Reporters, I feel I already gave you enough to write about. Ask other people your questions and leave me alone or I will hex you, and it won't be pleasant," yelled Xander before marching straight out the doors of the Great Hall with a house-elf.

"Well aren't you just a people person?" quipped Raine as he jogged to catch up to Xander.

"Shut it, Raine."

* * *

As Xander dragged his body to the Hogwarts guest quarters, Lord Voldemort stood on a small knoll overlooking the hamlet of Godric's Hollow, dozens of Death Eaters gathered behind him.

"My Lord?" asked Lucius Malfoy nervously. The Dark Lord's tirade after discovering Fenrir Greyback's failure had been the largest he had ever seen, and Lucius still feared his Lord's mood.

"Godric's Hollow," whispered Voldemort softly, "It has been fifteen years…fifteen years this very day."

Voldemort turned to face the gathered Death Eaters, old followers and new recruits alike. If the world was to discover his return tomorrow, Voldemort as going to add a message of his won

"Raze the village. Kill any who resist. Leave nothing of the Potter residence standing."

* * *

Harry's emerald eyes flickered with sadness and anger as he read the headline for the morning's _Daily Prophet_.

**You-Know-Who Alive! Godric's Hollow Destroyed! Seventeen Wizards Dead and Dozens of Muggles Murdered!**

"There's an article about you in there too," Hermione said quietly from beside Harry as she buttered a piece of toast, "though you might be more interested in the article in the bottom left of the front page."

Harry flipped the page over and skimmed past the rest of the headlines on Sirius' freedom, the Ministry's response, and Fenrir Greyback's death. There, in the bottom left corner was an article on the bounty hunter that brought in Pettigrew. Harry briefly smirked at the magical photo that accompanied it; the bounty hunter was making every desperate attempt to keep himself hidden.

"They don't really have much on him, do they?" said Harry as he read through the article.

"Not really, everything is just guesses or rumours for the most part. They don't even know his name. He went by Xander in England, but based on some of the information has a dozen names for all the places he's been," replied Hermione.

"I bet Dumbledore is trying to get him on our side, maybe even join the Order," said Ron as he ate a muffin.

"I don't know, it seems sort of risky to have someone join that no one really knows anything about." said Hermione.

"It would still be great to have someone that powerful on our side though," responded Harry before looking up from the paper. Harry sighed with frustration as at least thirty or forty people who had been unabashedly staring at him tried to look away. "I can also understand why he might want to stay unknown."

"The stares? I mean people were staring before anyway," said Hermione sympathetically.

"Yeah, but it's a lot worse this morning. It's like the imaginary sign that points to my forehead somehow just got bigger and brighter," replied Harry while shaking his head.

"Look at it this way, mate, at least they aren't staring at you because they think you are a nutter. You are back to being a hero and all that," added Ron.

"Wish they just wouldn't stare at all," muttered Harry as the trio got up from the Gryffindor table and headed towards morning class.

What followed was possibly one of the more useless days of class Harry had ever experienced, even more so than during the uproar of the Chamber of Secrets. Not a single person could focus, no matter how hard the professors tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy. One of the perks, however, was the absence of Umbridge from Defence Against the Dark Arts that day. Madam Pince substituted for the class, as Umbridge supposedly had "important Ministry business". Harry blatantly ignored the assignment and instead chose to read a Defence book sent to him by Remus to help him plan his Defence Association lessons.

* * *

"How the hell does he do that damn eye twinkle?" thought Xander absentmindedly as he leant against a bookshelf on the right side of the Hogwarts Headmaster's circular office, observing the occupants of the room.

Right next to Xander stood Raine, wearing his trademark mirrored aviators and brown leather jacket, his expression completely blank, like Xander's. Minister Fudge was sitting next to his dumpy lackey, looking rather pale. After him was the DMLE head Madam Bones, who was sitting next to an older wizard Xander didn't recognize, legal style notepads sitting in both their laps. Past them was ICW head Herr Muller, who was shooting glares at Fudge every few seconds while flipping through a number of papers. Mad-Eye Moody had taken up a similar position to Xander and Raine on the opposite of the room, his magical eye spinning wildly. Dumbledore sat in his chair behind his ornate wooden desk, his eyes twinkling as he looked at Xander and Raine. Severus Snape stood right behind him, his presence keeping Xander particularly on guard. Finally, there were a number of British and German Aurors throughout the room, presumably on bodyguard duty.

"What do you all want?" asked Raine, cutting through the silence.

"I was hoping for your input, Mr Talbot, today as we are here to discuss the threat of Voldemort," said Dumbledore cheerily, before turning to Xander.

"Yours as well, Mister…"

"Just call me Xander."

Just before Dumbledore was about to speak again, the one wizard Xander hadn't recognized seemed to jump in, turning in his chair to look at Raine.

"Talbot? As in Raine Talbot? The American Auror who was six months away from becoming the youngest Master Auror in history before quitting to chase bounties in Mexico?"

"At your service, though if I may who are you?" responded Raine with a bit of gusto; Raine wasn't an egomaniac or anything, but having your reputation precede you was always a good thing for a bounty hunter.

"Rufus Scrimegour, head of the British Aurors," replied the man coolly.

At this point, Xander decided just to be blunt; he was sore and a bit cranky after the previous day and wanted to get this magic carpet moving, so to speak.

"Look, what do you want us to do, and what are you willing to offer? We all know that's the only reason Raine and I are here, so just tell us."

Scrimegour, Madam Bones, Mad-Eye Moody, and Dumbledore all seemed to make brief eye contact before Madam Bones spoke.

"We do need your help. At minimum we were hoping we could get some information and maybe your opinion on some things."

Xander turned to Raine and spoke in rapid, quiet Spanish.

"I know we both do this for the money, but just giving them some info doesn't risk either of our necks, I say we do it for free and see where it goes from there."

"Alright, I don't see anything wrong with that. Though I'll say it now, I'm not actively getting involved unless they make me an offer I can't refuse," replied Raine with a slight nod.

"Fair enough, I feel the same. From what I've seen this shit is going to be nasty. Before we start talking I want the guy standing next to Dumbledore out of here."

Raine glanced over at Severus Snape before speaking. "The creepy Goth-looking guy, what for?"

"Death Eater," replied Xander simply.

"No shit. Why's he here anyway?"

"Dumbledore says he's a spy, or reformed or something," said Xander as he glanced over at Dumbledore, who just seemed to be twiddling his fingers absent mindedly, Xander knew it was a ploy and just hoped they were speaking quietly enough to prevent being overheard.

"You aren't buying it, though," commented Raine

"I don't have whatever information Dumbledore has on the guy, and I know he is marked with Dark Mark, and that thing is nasty," replied Xander.

Raine raised an eyebrow, "So it isn't a normal magical tattoo."

"Thing would light up a Dark Magic detector like a set of Mexican Muggle fireworks," said Xander with a shrug.

"Damn," finished Raine as the pair of them turned back towards the rest of the room, which was looking at them expectantly.

"Look, neither Raine nor I have any love for Voldemort's ilk, so we would be more than happy to tell you what we know, and share our thoughts. If it goes further than this meeting, and involves anything that risks our necks, we are going to want to get paid, and it won't be cheap," said Xander to no objections.

"Before we start though, he," Xander pointed to Snape, "needs to leave. We won't be doing anything with him here."

Dumbledore frowned and looked a little surprised. "Severus has my complete and full trust…" he began only to be cut off by Xander.

"That's nice, but he doesn't have mine or Raine's. We know he is a Death Eater and we know he has the Dark Mark, so no, your word isn't enough Dumbledore."

"He is a Death Eater?" yelped Hans Muller, clearly surprised by the information.

"Again, he has my full trust, but for the sake of cooperation I will acquiesce," Dumbledore said tiredly, giving Snape a nod, who then left the room. The rest of the room looked a bit shocked that Dumbledore had deferred to someone who didn't look like he could be older than a teenager.

"Alright, now this will be easier if we can ask you some questions, and then we can give you our opinion of the situation, and how we could potentially help, if we want to," began Raine.

"So for starters, what's your Auror count?" asked Xander, directing his question at Madam Bones and Rufus Scrimegour, who glanced slightly nervously at each other.

"Two hundred and twenty five," responded Scrimegour somewhat gruffly, a number which shocked Xander, Raine, and Herr Muller.

"Are you shitting me?" said Raine, all propriety forgotten.

"Great Britain has a magical population of around sixty thousand! Even a less influential wizarding country of that size would have at least two hundred and fifty Aurors, much less one of the major wizarding powers! France and Germany both have at least four hundred Aurors!" exclaimed Herr Muller, looking wildly from Madam Bones to Rufus Scrimegour.

The two British Ministry officials turned and shot glares at Fudge, who was looking at his feet. "We've had…quite a few budget cuts the last decade," Madam Bones said haltingly.

Xander just shook his head at the stupidity of it all. "Moving on, then. Mad-Eye, your opinion on the current skill level of the Auror force."

"An average Death Eater against an average Auror is a wash. Their top end, however, beats out our best Aurors right now, not even counting the ones in Azkaban or anyone new," responded Mad-Eye grimly, a slight note of frustration in his voice.

"What about you?" asked Raine right at Dumbledore, who was trying his best to look confused by the question, "You must have been doing something; back home I heard rumours about some organization you had fighting Voldemort during the first war. How many have you got, and how much crossover with Aurors?"

Dumbledore's tried to looked a bit surprised, but at the same time pleased, at being called out by Raine as he answered. "The Order of the Phoenix has approximately sixty members and about a half dozen are Aurors."

"Skill level?" asked Xander.

"Wide range, top end is as good as our best Aurors, as some of them are. The rest, however, are untrained and more often than not housewives; better off using cleaning charms than dueling," shot in Mad-Eye, making it somewhat obvious he was part of the organization.

"Hem, Hem," interrupted Fudge's dumpy lackey, speaking with a disgustingly girlish voice, "the organization of a vigilante group outside the Ministry of Magic is quite illegal, Professor Dumbledore. I'm afraid we will have to arrest against you and any members of said organization. Aurors!"

The room simply turned to the woman and collectively quoted the words of the Muggle John McEnroe, "You cannot be serious."

"There will be no arresting of anyone involved in the Order of the Phoenix, and I look forward to cooperating with all members of it in the coming war against Voldemort," said Madam Bones frostily, glaring directly at Umbridge, who seemed to wilt under the room's stares.

"How did you fucking elect these people," quipped Raine Talbot as he just looked around the room with a raised eyebrow. His question went unanswered by the room.

"Carrying along, this last question is directed at Dumbledore. Just how powerful is Voldemort?" asked Xander, who was getting close to snapping at those who flinched when the name was said.

Dumbledore brought his hands together as he prepared to answer. "Voldemort has used a number of rituals to augment his own body and has studied most fields of magic extensively. His knowledge of the Dark Arts, ranging from torture curses to necromancy, is close to unparalleled and he is both naturally skilled, and experienced, in dueling. On top of that, he also is a cunning strategist, a true embodiment of the traits Salazar Slytherin valued. He understands the British political system well and is adept in choosing targets and executing battle plans."

Raine and Xander just glanced at each other a bit uneasily; they knew he was powerful but the picture Dumbledore painted was rather scary.

"Approximately how many average Aurors do you think he could take on singlehandedly and how would you rate his strength compared to Grindelwald?" asked Raine.

"I have not fought him or personally seen him in nearly fifteen years but assuming he is at the same strength as when he first disappeared … around twenty-five or more Aurors, and I believe he now outstrips Grindelwald in terms of power and skill," replied Dumbledore.

Raine just let out a long whistle while Xander shifted his bodyweight on the bookcase he was leaning on. The room directed their attention to the pair expectantly.

"My honest opinion about your situation? You are all royally fucked," said Xander bluntly.

"I have to agree too," added Raine.

"I think we were hoping for something a little more specific," said Rufus Scrimegour gruffly.

Raine glanced at Xander, "I'll defer to you. You probably have a better idea of what they are up against after tracking so many Death Eaters."

Xander shifted himself so he was no longer leaning against the bookcase, commanding greater attention from the room.

"You guys honestly have a laundry list of problems. First of all, from what I can tell, you are facing a similarly sized force. Between the Death Eaters that got off free last time, their family members, and new recruits, Voldemort has nearly two hundred followers to call upon, and that number is growing. According to your own assessments, that force is equal or even more powerful than your own, so you currently don't have a numerical or quality advantage."

"And the new recruits that Voldemort is gathering from the…well…magical cesspools of the world are probably only raising his battle strength," added Raine.

"Agreed. After that you guys have a tactical problem in that you have a lot of ground to defend without the numbers to do it. Voldemort has a bunch of targets he can attack to destabilize your side, and it will be tough to defend them all. You will have to pick your battles. Finally, your main prison is guarded by Dementors. And, let's be honest, they will join Voldemort. That will bolster his forces with a pretty fearsome weapon and stretch yours even thinner if you want to try to defend Azkaban."

"What would you say are Voldemort's best targets?" asked Mad-Eye Moody. Xander knew the man probably already had a list, but was just trying to get the question out in the open.

"Who's the most likely candidate to replace that idiot," asked Xander, motioning to Fudge, "and will they be any good?"

The room completely ignored Fudge's odd squawk of protest and Umbridge's indignant shriek as Mad-Eye responded.

"Madam Bones right here would get my vote, and a number of others too."

Xander just nodded, "Well as far as locations, I would say Azkaban, Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, and Hogwarts are the prime targets. Maybe St. Mungo's. Madam Bones and her family are also going to be prime targets, along with Mr Scrimegour here, Dumbledore, and yourself Mad-Eye. Any influential anti-Voldemort Wizengamot members would also be psychological and political blows, so they and their families are targets. Harry Potter is probably the last one; plenty of moral value for Voldemort if he dies, and Voldemort seems to have some odd obsession with him."

A grim silence filled the room; it was pretty obvious to everyone that the depleted British Auror force wasn't going to be able to defend everything; not to mention any random attacks.

"There is at least a bit of good news, however," said Raine, the room's eyes snapping onto him.

"How do you figure?" asked Rufus Scrimegour grimly.

"If Voldemort had had any more time to prepare, the situation would have been impossible. Additionally, while the numbers are equal, if I know how budget cuts work in Auror forces, you probably have older experienced Aurors who you forced into retirement and can recall. Finally, Voldemort has been recruiting pretty heavily among the Dark wizards of the world, but with a couple notable exceptions, no one truly powerful or scary has joined him. They are mostly just mediocre criminals on the run or a couple of lower tier assassins and Curse breakers or whatever," explained Raine.

"Notable exceptions?" queried Mad-Eye.

Raine and Xander shared a quick look before Xander spoke.

"If you run into a man with a South American accent missing a hand, be extremely careful. His name is Carlos Porras. He was the Columbian Dark Lord's top lieutenant and managed to escape Auror custody."

"He's one scary motherfucker," said Raine with a bit of a shudder. Most of the room looked around uneasily at Raine's reaction; if someone of Raine's calibre was scared that wasn't a good sign.

"To give you an idea," began Xander, "he took on seven of Columbia's better Aurors at once, and killed them all like they were practically insects."

Another grim silence swept the room, the only noise coming from Madam Bones and Rufus Scrimegour as they quietly whispered.

"Do you have any suggestions as to what we could do in the short term?" asked Madam Bones, looking a bit pale but determined.

"It's hard to say as the situation overall is still pretty murky," began Raine. "However, I would say that you, Mr Scrimegour, and your families need a heavy bodyguard detail. Start recalling retired Aurors and recruiting anyone that can help. Don't be picky. Finally, you _will_ lose Azkaban unless you sink a huge portion of your Auror force into guarding it, which isn't worth it. Thus, you need to permanently deal with all the Death Eaters you have locked up in there before Voldemort can bust them out."

Xander watched Dumbledore blink a couple of times before jumping into the conversation. "You don't mean to suggest executing them? They may be convicted prisoners but they do have rights."

Raine just gave a somewhat nonchalant shrug. "Sometimes you have to swallow a bit of a bitter pill. You have a war coming, and if Voldemort manages to bolster his forces anymore you are really going to be in a world of trouble. They are all murderers and criminals anyway, so I doubt anyone will miss them too much."

"This first week is key," said Xander. "If Voldemort is smart, which he is, he isn't going to want to give you time to prepare. He will hit a lot of those targets fast and hard, one or two a day or something like that. It will pretty much set the tone for the rest of the war."

* * *

Harry watched as the three Stunners streaked towards him before whipping out his wand.

"_Protego"_

The bluish spherical shield blossomed in front of Harry, deflecting all three Stunners cast by Terry, Anthony, and Lisa, sending them scattering throughout the Room of Requirement.

"The wand motion and incantation aren't very complicated for the basic Shield charm," said Harry as he turned to face the Defence Association. "But, you really have to focus on the spell and put some power behind it for it to work well. A weak shield will fizzle after blocking just one spell, while a stronger one will stay up for two or three, which is what you want. Ideally you want it to be strong enough to even reflect the spells away, like I just showed. I think the best way to practise this, is to split off into pairs and have one person cast Disarming charms until your shield can hold up to at least a couple of them and then try Stunners."

The room nodded and started splitting off into pairs, with Harry ending up with Luna Lovegood, which wasn't too uncommon. While sometimes others like Padma, Susan, Fred, or George would partner with her, she was really the only person in the club that didn't have a sort of "go to" friend to pair up with. Harry didn't mind at all, however, even if he didn't understand what the spacey blonde was saying half the time. Harry had quickly learned not to underestimate her due to her strange opinions of, well, everything. The first time they had practised the Disarming charm she had cast a spell powerful enough to knock Harry right on his bum, something only a few other people in the room could probably do.

After a little over ten minutes, Harry handed Luna off to Fred and George and started to make his way around the room to try to help people out. There was a noticeable increase in effort and focus in the room from previous meetings. Generally no one really fooled around _per se_, but Harry could tell the official return of Voldemort and the destruction of Godric's Hollow was affecting everybody.

By the time Harry called an end to the night, everyone could successfully cast a Shield charm, and some had cast it skilfully enough that they were reflecting some Disarming charms. Overall, Harry was pleased. Everyone was progressing extremely quickly, and even little Dennis Creevey seemed to be able to get most of the spells down with a little extra time and work.

"Everyone was really into it tonight," Terry commented casually as he joined Harry in putting some cushions back in place while the rest of the Defence Association streamed out of the Room of Requirement.

"Small wonder why, though," replied Harry grimly as he slid the last cushion into place and walked over to where Padma, Susan, Hermione, Ron, Lisa, Anthony, Mandy, Hannah, Justin, and Ernie were gathered.

"Yeah, I mean the _Prophet_ this morning had enough headlines to fill a month's worth of issues, and the incident in Godric's Hollow was pretty ghastly," replied Terry.

"Yeah," started Harry, "did you know anyone at Godric's Hollow? Are they okay?"

Terry just shook his head. "Nah, though my parents do. Hopefully everyone they know made it out okay."

"I have an aunt and uncle in Godric's Hollow, but my parents owled me to let me know they got out alright," added in Hannah as the rest of the group joined the conversation.

"That's good, though it's still really pretty scary," said Anthony as he scratched his scalp through his curly brown hair.

"By the way Harry," began Susan, turning her shimmering blue eyes onto the mess-haired hero, "how are you doing? After the attack on Godric's Hollow?"

Harry blinked a couple times in confusion. "Ummm fine? I mean it's really sad but I didn't know anyone there or anything..."

"Just making sure, I mean they did completely destroy the house you and your parent had lived in as baby...the place you stopped him the first time..." said Susan tentatively.

Harry just laughed a little. "I mean I didn't really do anything, my mother was the real hero. And I guess I should miss it, but I've never even been there and I honestly don't have any memories of the place. The only thing that makes me sad about it is the people that died there because of Voldemort, their lives are a lot more important than some house."

"The really scary thing, though, it the attacks will only get worst," said Padma, breaking the silence.

"Do you think Death Eaters would attack Hogwarts?" asked Mandy worriedly.

"Doubt it, I mean they have kids here too, and I doubt they want to mess with Dumbledore. The wards at Hogwarts are also legendary," answered Ernie.

"According to _Hogwarts: A_ _History_, all four of the founders helped make the wards, and they are some of the strongest in magical britain. The current Headmaster of the school also adds his own magic and control to the wards, and since Dumbledore is the headmaster I'd imagine they are incredibly powerful," said Hermione quickly.

"No wards are perfect, though," added in Harry, thinking back on what had happened to him that summer. "They all have loopholes."

"Still got to reckon it's pretty safe here, and the Ministry will probably do something to help protect Hogwarts," said Ron with a shrug.

"I definitely wouldn't be surprised if they put in a bunch of safety measures," said Hermione, "hopefully they will have at least a detail of Aurors."

"Well as long as they don't cancel Quidditch I don't really care," said Ron.

"I bet Angelina's thinking the same way, she's been worst than Oliver recently," responded Harry with a shake of his head.

"Well then," began Justin, "here's to hoping that you absolutely flatten Slytherin on Friday."

"Here, here," shouted all of the boys.

Susan just shook her head. "More importantly, here's to hoping that there won't be anymore attacks this week."

* * *

**A/n: And we are almost up to the old story! One chapter left before all-new material! Please review in the meanwhile.**


	8. Skirmish

**A/N: Here it is! With more changes than I expected! **** Also, I thought it would be fun if everyone who posted a review posted their favorite Harry Potter Fanfiction, and maybe one they are currently reading. I need some new reading material, give me suggestions!**

**Second: **** I've gotten a lot of comments about Xander, his role, etc. If you are anti-OCs in general, this probably isn't the story for you. Xander isn't going to disappear though the amount of words I spend on things from only his viewpoint will diminish now that he and Harry are finally in the same spot. Harry is the main character of this story. I had to spend some time on Xander to a) set-up the story, b) you have JK Rowling's 4 Books before this one to explain Harry's character.**

******Third: Beta...Beta...Beta? PM me! **

* * *

**Chapter 8: Skirmish**

Harry surveyed the somber mood in the Great Hall as he sat down for breakfast Friday morning. Hopes for a week free of attacks were completely dashed as the Death Eaters made headlines every morning. Only five days after Voldemort's return was announced in the Hogwarts Great Hall, the death toll had already risen considerably. A number of wizards were dead, including, to Harry's sadness, the Order's first casualty. Dedalus Diggle's body had been portkeyed straight into Diagon Alley, the Dark Mark seared into his bare back. Additionally, nearly 200 Muggles had been massacred in what Muggles were calling a derailed train, though the _Prophet_ had shown the Dark Mark clearly cast over the wreckage.

Harry momentarily lost himself in his own thoughts, missing the entrance of the flock of _Daily Prophet_ owls to deliver the morning paper. He was soon jostled out of his deeper consciousness as a wave of noise whispers and screams overtook the hall. Harry lifted his head and turned right, only to see Neville deathly pale, hand shaking has he held the morning's _Prophet._

"Neville, are you alright?" asked Harry frantically as Neville started shaking enough to rock the wooden bench they were sitting on. "Do you need Pomfrey? What's wrong?"

Harry turned his head to yell at Ron to help him only to see the red-haired Gryffindor only marginally less pale, reading over Hermione's shoulder with wide eyes. Harry whipped his head around and his eyes fell onto the _Prophet_ that Neville had dropped onto the table.

**AZKABAN ATTACKED!**

**Prisoners Freed! Dementors Join You-Know-Who! Twenty-One Aurors Slain!**

* * *

"Bloody Hell," whispered Harry.

"This just seems…wrong," said Harry as he sat in one of the large armchairs of the Gryffindor common room.

It wasn't long before Harry and the Gryffindor team was set to take the Quidditch pitch, and Harry had never seen the common room more somber before a Quidditch match. Many were still getting dressed up and charming hats or banners, but it wasn't with nearly the same level of excitement one normally saw, particularly before a match against Slytherin.

"What do you mean?" asked Ron, who was seated in a chair to Harry's right.

"After all that happened this week…especially today…it just seems wrong that now we are just supposed to carry on as normal and play some Quidditch," said Harry.

"I guess Dumbledore is trying to take people's minds off it, make things seem normal, you know?" replied Hermione hesitantly.

"Still, things clearly aren't _normal_. I don't feel like we should be acting like it is," shot back Harry.

"But we are in school mate, what exactly are we supposed to do. Let's just flatten Slytherin and feel good about it considering their families are probably all Death Eaters," said Ron with a shrug.

Harry just rolled his eyes at Ron's comment. Even with the addition of Daphne, Tracy and Blaise to the DA, Ron still hadn't lost his prejudice against anyone Slytherin. He usually managed to keep his mouth shut around Padma and Susan, out of fear of being hexed, but his narrow minded views definitely hadn't changed.

Harry briefly thought about the trio of Slytherins in the DA. They had definitely opened his eyes about the Slytherin House; it clearly just wasn't a bunch of Malfoys and Pansy Parkinsons. Also, Harry realized, that logically that those three couldn't be the _only_ ones in Slytherin that didn't side with the Death Eaters. Harry made a mental note to ask them after the next DA meeting about the different groups within Slytherin, and what was happening now that Voldemort was out into the open.

"Alright team, let's go!" commanded Angelina.

Harry and Ron told Hermione they would see her after the game, and followed the rest of the team out of the Gryffindor common room and down to the Quidditch locker rooms.

Once there, Harry was practically on autopilot as he pulled on his Quidditch jersey and pads. Next to him, he noticed Ron fumbling away, nearly falling into his locker as he tried to get his kneepads on.

"Breath Ron, just breath," said Harry calmly. "It'll be just like practise."

Ron just nodded nervously and finished pulling on his Quidditch jersey. Moments later they were marching out in single file into a cool fall evening. Harry felt the breeze slightly chill his skin, and knew the temperature would only grow cooler as the sun dropped in the sky. Fortunately the sky was a clear, a rarity for that time of year, and Harry mentally thanked magic as he cast a warming charm on himself before slipping his wand back into his pocket.

"Captains, shake hands," commanded a stern Madam Hooch.

Harry watched as Angelina and Jacob Vaisley, the new Slytherin captain, shook hands. Moments later, Harry felt the air rushing by him as he kicked off the ground in his Firebolt as Madam Hooch blew her whistle.

Harry took the circling high above the pitch, keeping an eye on Malfoy but still avoiding his peroxide blonde nemesis; he didn't feel like trading useless barbs today. Harry thought the match was one of the most competitive he'd ever played in; the Gryffindor team edged out the Slytherin squad in the quality of Chasers and Beaters, which kept the match close as Ron was only a shade of the Keeper that Oliver Wood had been.

"THAT'S KATIE BELL WITH THE SCORE, 70-50 GRYFFINDOR!" bellowed Lee Jordan about 35 minutes into the match.

Harry realized that it was going to come down to the Snitch, and grinned. He had never lost to Malfoy, and wasn't planning on starting now.

Gently pulling off a moderately paced barrel roll to avoid a Bludger, Harry quickly scanned across the pitch for any sign of Snitch, to no avail. Looking over at Malfoy quickly, Harry felt a chill run through him. Not a chill caused by the frosty Scottish autumn wind, but something deeper, something magical and something all too familiar.

* * *

"Something's wrong," said Xander, as he drew his wand and started to look around.

Raine just turned and looked at him like he was crazy. "What do you mean? I know this is your first live Quidditch match, but this is an amazing game for the amateur level!"

"No you dimwit, I mean something's going on. Look, there are a bunch of kids leaving the stands, and that Malfoy brat won't go near the edge of wards. I can feel something over there too," shot back Xander.

Xander was getting worried; his sensitivity to magic generally wasn't useful at places like Hogwarts, there was so much ambient magic that it was like the effects of white noise. But he could feel the edges of something coming from outside the Hogwarts wards, and since it was cutting through everything else, it had to be something absolutely nasty.

Raine snapped out of his sports fan mode and whipped out his own wand.

"The wards would repel a Death Eater attack, though," said Raine.

"I don't think this is Death Eaters…" trailed off Xander as he felt the magic come closer and closer, until he realized what it was.

"Shit"

"What?" asked Raine wildly.

Xander's face turned perfectly emotionless before answering, "Dementors."

Just as he answered, the first telltale black cloaks came out of the trees and walked straight through the Hogwarts wards like they weren't even there.

"Fucking Hell! There's at least thirty of them it looks like!" shouted Raine as he and Xander jumped up and started sprinting towards the center of the Quidditich pitch. The pair had been watching from nearly the furthest point away from where the Dementors were attacking. As they ran, Xander watched as Dumbledore and a pair of other professors cast Patronuses in an effort to drive the Dementors

"The Patronuses aren't working, the Dementors are being directed and controlled," said Xander between breaths.

"Yeah, I don't understand what Dumbledore is doing, they are only slowing them down, not stopping them," replied Raine grimly.

* * *

Harry pelted across the Quidditch pitch; trying his best keep his consciousness as the screams pounded in his ears and the chill penetrated down to his very core. Fortunately, his Firebolt seemed to outrun the Dementors, and Harry managed to land on the other side of the Quidditch pitch feeling better then he had before.

"Bloody Hell!" screamed George as he and Fred landed right next to Harry, who quickly surveyed the scene. It was complete chaos; Harry watched as the students stampeded out of the stands, shrieking and shouting, and fled towards the castle while Flitwick, McGonagall, and Dumbledore tried to turn back the approaching ball of Dementors.

"Get out of here! Try to help anyone straggling if you can!" yelled Harry frantically as he turned back to towards the Dementors, which were about eighty yards away and closing.

"Don't have to tell us twice," said Fred as he and George began sprinting towards the castle.

Harry turned back towards the Dementors, which were about seventy yards away at this point, and slowly advancing. He immediately noticed that the Quidditich pitch was empty, and assumed the rest of the team must have smartly flown off. Drawing a deep breath, Harry drew upon his memory of winning the Quidditch cup his third year.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!_"

Harry's stag Patronus leapt out of his wand and dashed off towards the Dementors, joining Dumbledore's phoenix, McGonagall's cat, and Flitwick's owl in trying to fend off the Dementors. To Harry's shock, the Dementors pressed closer and closer together, as if being herded, but still advanced at a slowing, but steady pace towards the Quidditch stands.

"My one Patronus managed to drive away more Dementors than this my third year…how the hell are the Dementors still coming?" thought Harry in a panic as he urged his Patronus on. The Dementors were now about fifty yards away.

Suddenly a massive bear Patronus burst past Harry and charged straight at the Dementors.

"Herd them into a ball! Keep them packed together!" bellowed the older bounty hunter as he ran side by side with Xander, Peter Pettigrew's capturer.

Harry mentally relayed the command to his stag, which joined the bear in leaping around the Dementors, forcing them closer and closer, instead of just trying to stop them. The Hogwarts faculty's Patronuses soon joined, and the Dementors were soon packed into a very tight, slow moving ball, about thirty yards away.

"How can we stop them? We've only just slowed them down and Patronuses are the only thing that works against Dementors," asked a panicked Harry as the elder of the two bounty hunters came to stand next to him, directing his own Patronus.

The man just smirked and motioned with his head towards Xander, who was walking straight towards the Dementors, his wand moving in a smooth infinity motion. "Oh, I don't think I would say that it's the only thing…"

Before Harry could respond, the bounty hunter ended his Patronus and ran out towards Xander who had stopped at a point just 20 yards away from the oncoming Dementors, his wand still moving with a graceful sway, until suddenly he flicked it outwards towards the Dementors.

An enormous group of packed flames, swirling with white, blue, and orange, burst out of Xander's wand. The flames weren't fanning out like they naturally would. Instead, they were oddly packed together, dozen of twisting cylinders all tangling and moving together. A shriek accompanied the spell, changing in volume and pitch almost constantly. It was as if the flames were almost alive.

The spell smashed into the Dementors, engulfing the first few in the pack and sending the other swiftly gliding in all directions as they tried to escape. Threads of flame, however, seemed to break off and chase and whip at individual Dementors with minds of there own. As the tight ball of Dementors began to break apart, Harry watched as the second bounty hunter impressively transfigured concave walls earthen walls around them, hemming the Dementors and the flames in. The Dementors took the only option left to them and turned around towards the Forbidden Forest, flames and Patronuses nipping at their hems of their black robes.

"Amazing," Harry whispered quietly as he watched the last of the Dementors cross into the Forbidden Forest.

After his third year lessons with Remus, Harry had been under the impression that Dementors were impossible to kill, and that Patronuses were the only effective tool against them. Clearly, that wasn't the case.

Harry could hear the cheers of hundreds of students who hadn't been able to escape from the stands fast enough and had thus seen the Dementors driven off. He wearily turned around and noticed Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Flitwick heading towards the bounty hunters with frowns on their faces, so Harry decided to head in that direction to see what had the Hogwarts faculty upset. He arrived just in time to hear Dumbledore's first words.

"You do know that class of spells is illegal?" said Dumbledore politely, but rather unhappily.

Both bounty hunters turned with raised eyebrows. "Why the hell would that be illegal?" asked Xander slightly incredulous.

"In Britain most emotion-fueled spells, excepting ones like the Patronus that are based on happiness or love, are outlawed as Dark magic," replied McGonagall.

Harry watched both bounty hunters quickly look at each other in surprise.

"Dark magic? You have got to be kidding me… It's just a powerful fire spell…fine you need some anger or rage to fuel it but otherwise it wouldn't drive off Dementors. It's not like I had to fucking sacrifice someone to use the spell," shot back Xander, who Harry noticed was starting to look more than a little upset.

"What kind of idiot decided to outlaw that entire range of spells, I mean no wonder this country has problems," scoffed the older bounty hunter. Harry saw Xander nod in agreement. "Raine's right, no wonder the Death Eaters are such a problem, if you are categorizing so much magic as illegal it just drives the stuff underground."

Harry had always seen Dumbledore either happy, or once in awhile upset or saddened, but now he almost looked a bit…miffed. "Not even accounting for the magic basis of the spell, they are also illegal because of the danger in casting and controlling such spells. Considering our location, near so many children, it was a rather unwise decision. Additionally, even if you disagree with the laws, you are still bound to follow them."

Harry watched Xander just roll his eyes before the bounty hunter absolutely tore into Dumbledore. "Look, like most of the rest of the world, I don't think the sun shines out of your ass Dumbledore, so don't get all high and mighty with me. You might be extremely powerful and more than a hundred years older than me, but I know my shit and I'm sure I've seen things even you haven't. Okay, maybe I broke the law there. Next time, would you prefer that I just let the Dementors kiss a bunch of students? That seemed like what your plan at the time."

Harry was watching wide-eyed as the man he had always seen spoken too with reverence and respect was taken down a notch or two by someone who couldn't be more than a year or two older than himself. He glanced at McGonagall, who looked absolutely scandalized, and Flitwick, who calmly appraising the two bounty hunters.

"I felt we would be able to drive the Dementors off eventually, or at least hold them until more teachers could join us," replied Dumbledore, keeping his face completely neutral.

"Bullshit," shot back Raine.

Harry saw Xander just shake his head before he responded. "Whatever, you have your opinions and we got ours. Now unless you are going to try and arrest me, we'll be heading out. If you need us we will be at Madam Rosmerta's for pretty much the rest of the night."

"I would caution you against that, Voldemort surely has orders out for your death or capture," said Dumbledore, returning to his grandfatherly demeanor but with an edge something Harry couldn't quite pick out.

The two bounty hunters just burst out laughing, which seemed like almost psychotic reaction to Harry. One doesn't just laugh at the prospect of the on the most powerful Dark Lords in history coming after you, Harry knew that from experience.

"Thanks for the concern, but tonight Madam Rosmerta's will probably be the safest place on the planet," said Xander, still attempting to control his laughter.

"The guest list for the party we are throwing is literally a 'who's who' of bounty hunters, creature hunters, Cursebreakers, with some ex-law enforcement and other odds and ends thrown in. Voldemort could probably attack the place with every Death Eater he had and I still doubt he'd even come close to winning," elaborated Raine.

Both men took a few steps to walk away, before Raine swiveled his head back around to shout at Dumbledore. "By the way, we'll both be gone tomorrow, so if you want to hire us tonight's your last chance."

Dumbledore simply nodded before Harry and the Hogwarts faculty began to walk towards the castle. They had only take a couple steps, however, before they heard Raine's shout.

"Hey kid!"

"Ummm…yeah?" asked Harry tentatively, though he realized he was definitely the one being called to. They definitely weren't calling McGonagall, or worse Dumbledore, 'kid'.

"Nice Patronus, don't see a corporeal one like that everyday from someone still in school," shouted Raine.

"Yeah," added Xander, who spun around and started walking backwards to both shout and keep up with Raine, "You have some potential, don't waste it."

Harry couldn't even find his voice to respond as Xander spun back around and the two bounty hunters walked off towards the Hogwarts front gates. Harry noticed how they exuded confidence and alertness, like they were ready for anything and anytime.

"How the hell haven't we gotten them on our side yet?" Harry thought to himself incredulously as he turned to walk back towards the castle, his legs suddenly feeling rather weary.

* * *

"I still don't understand why the wards didn't work! It says in _Hogwarts: A History_ that they are supposed to keep all threats to Hogwarts out!" said a practically hysterical Hermione.

The expanded friend group, as Harry liked to think of it, was sitting in comfortable couches in the Room of Requirement as Harry had just finished explaining everything that had transpired from his point of view during the Dementor attack just a couple hours before.

"No wards are foolproof, especially intent based ones," replied Harry quietly.

"And no matter what _Hogwarts:_ _A History_ say the wards clearly have some loopholes," added Susan.

"I have a question though," began Harry, "Some of you more familiar with Wizarding law, tell me, what was the whole argument about illegal spells about? I didn't really understand that part."

"I'll give you the short version. There are a lot of things that are clearly Dark magic, but there are also plenty of spells that are well, borderline, one could say. Most of these borderline spells used to be completely legal, and in most countries they still are, with different levels of monitoring. Since the fall of Grindelwald, the Ministry of Magic has been slowly outlawing pretty much everything even close to borderline. Dumbledore for the most part led the efforts; many have called it 'The Lightening of the Law', though it has its critics," explained Terry.

"Britain now probably has the strictest laws concerning Dark magic on a spell basis in the world. There have been some instances when it has been suspended, like in the last war when they allowed Aurors to use Unforgivable Curses. They had a harder time trying to pass laws for Dark objects though; a lot of families fought back against those proposals because it would have made some family heirlooms illegal," added Susan.

"So it sounds like whatever spell this Xander guy used to drive away the Dementors was illegal," commented Justin Finch-Fletchey.

"No wonder Dumbledore was upset! He used Dark magic!" yelped Hermione.

"Whatever it was didn't seem all that Dark, it was just a fire spell, so it was probably in the borderline category. Besides, if he hadn't how would they have driven the Dementors off," defended Harry.

"But it's Dumbledore, he surely wouldn't have pushed for something to be made illegal without good reason," responded Hermione.

"He's only human thought," said Padma. "He is powerful and wise, but not infallible."

"The interesting question, is why in Merlin's name did Voldemort use Dementors on Hogwarts," a melodic voice cut through the air, causing the group's heads to snap towards the door in unison.

"Sorry if we are interrupting," Daphne continued as she walked in with Blaise and Tracey.

"We would like to avoid our common room for the moment, if you don't mind," added Blaise.

"Not at all, pretty understandable considering," answered Padma quickly, before a certain redhead could say anything.

"Seems pretty obvious why he used Dementors though, they cause a bunch of terror and they could get through the wards," replied Terry, answering Daphne's original comment.

"Still isn't exactly the move of someone trying to rule wizarding Britain," replied Blaise while taking a seat. "I mean, sending soul-sucking monsters after a bunch of children probably won't help recruit followers."

"As we all know, Death Eaters have kids too," said Tracey.

"True, but considering Voldemort is pretty much insane, rationalizing his decisions seems silly," answered Harry.

"He may be an insane, homicidal maniac, but I don't think anyone has ever accused him of being tactically stupid," replied Daphne with a shrug.

"The wards argument might still be true, but tactically using Dementors does seem stupid. As Tracey mentioned, I doubt Lucius Malfoy was very happy that his son was anywhere near danger," said Padma.

"Unless his son wasn't actually in danger," responded Harry quietly.

"What?" asked Justin.

"The Dementors yesterday, they acted differently than I've seen. They seemed…stronger… more focused…" trailed off Harry, struggling with the wording he wanted to use.

"You mean, Voldemort must have done something to them," supplied Padma quizzically.

Harry nodded. "We don't know a lot about Dementors. Voldemort clearly changed their behavior somehow, could he have given them orders? Don't harm certain students or something."

"Are Dementors that sentient? If they are, Voldemort could have ordered them to only attack non-Purebloods or something," said Terry.

"That would have fit perfectly with the political side of Voldemort. Clearing out the "impure" or whatever," replied Blaise.

"Voldemort would have to have been pretty confident or trusting that the Dementors would have done exactly that," said Hermione.

"Unless he counted on Dumbledore being able to stop them anyway. If he was, then the whole thing just causes a bunch of fear without him sacrificing Death Eaters, and makes it so nowhere looks untouchable. We were all talking about how much we trust the Hogwarts wards, and suddenly even here doesn't feel so safe," pointed out Harry.

"Well none of options look all that good, huh?" said Justin. "Either Voldemort is a madman willing to unleash soul-sucking monsters on school children, or he is a cunning tactician who has more control over soul-sucking monsters than we expected."

"You forgot the worst, and most likely option," replied Daphne quietly.

"What do ya mean?" asked Ron, "Both of those seem bloody bad."

"That he is a cunning, insane madman with immense amounts of control over soul-sucking monsters, and is perfectly willing to unleash them on non-Pureblooded children."

"Oh," said Ron, paling a bit.

"I think with Voldemort, we can count on it being the worst option," said Harry, as everyone seated in the Room of Requirements grimaced.

* * *

The party at Madam Rosmerta's was in full swing, with at least seventy people hanging around in the pub, and more coming. In one corner stood a half dozen men shooting colored spells at a target and drinking copious amounts of Ogden's finest. Raine was by the bar flirting with an attractive African-American Cursebreaker acquaintance, who was getting quite a few looks with her tight mini-skirt and large afro. In another corner were nine people playing poker, with a minimum one thousand Galleon buy-in. Madam Rosmerta had nearly fainted when she saw the amount of money simply sitting on the table as she delivered drinks. Most of the rest of the party was simply schmoozing around: drinking, laughing, and joking, except Xander, who was excitedly talking shop with Jacques Maison.

"Xander," interrupted Raine, who walked over with a drink, "you need to learn the concept of taking a day off…especially at your own damn party."

Everyone burst out laughing, even Xander, until the door of Madam Rosmerta's opened, to reveal Madam Bones, Rufus Scrimegour, Mad-Eye Moody, and six Aurors.

"Do you fine ladies and gentlemen need Xander and I," asked Raine smoothly as the entire party's attention was now on the new arrivals.

"Aye," responded Mad-Eye, who was looking around the pub, clearly recognizing a few people.

Xander wordlessly stood up before he and Raine led the Ministry officials upstairs into an unoccupied room Raine had rented out.

"Alright," began Raine as everyone gathered in the room, "you have about forty-five minutes of our time before we are heading back to the party. Let's deal."

* * *

"Fuck!" Harry whispered violently, sitting up in his bed.

He had just woken up for at least the fifth or sixth time in a cold sweat. All he could think about was the nightmare he had repeatedly the night before. It had been a replay of the events of the night before except there hadn't been any bounty hunters, or even Dumbledore, to save them.

'Useless,' thought Harry in frustration as he jumped out of bed and threw on his robe.

'That's what I am right now. Useless and weak.'

As his roommates, and for that matter the vast majority of Hogwarts, still slept, Harry stormed out of Gryffindor tower and headed straight for the Room of Requirement. The halls echoed with Harry's pounding footsteps, his anger causing him to make more noise than he normally would have.

'Give me what I need to get stronger,' Harry thought as he walked back and forth, pushing away images of his friends Kissed from his imagination. Harry knew the command was vague, but he had seen magic do amazing things, and he was feeling a little desperate. The door appeared, and Harry took a giant breath before entering, only to be dumbfounded by what he saw.

The room was completely empty except for a single table in the middle of the room. Harry walked up to it to find only a piece of paper with flowing cursive script.

_**Second Floor Guest Quarters**_

Harry took the slip of paper and walked out of the Room of Requirement puzzled, trying to figure out just what Hogwarts had in mind.

"So we are settled, I deal with the Aurors, you do your own thing to a degree, and we rotate around with the kids, as long as we get the curse broken," said Raine looking up at Xander.

"For the millionth time, Raine, yes. What's so hard to understand here?" asked Xander with exasperation as they chatted in Xander's guestroom at Hogwarts.

Xander looked at Raine to see the older bounty hunter staring straight at him, pensive and extremely thoughtful.

"Can't believe that Dumbledore actually convinced you to become a student," said Raine.

Xander shrugged. "Wasn't by choice. Only way I could get the professor job apparently."

Raine just looked confused. "You had to become a student to be a professor? That makes no fucking sense."

"Apparently the Hogwarts Charter has a set of minimum requirements to be a professor. You either need to be older than 20 years old and have a Mastery or older than 30 and have significant experience or something," replied Xander. "There is a provision, however, for Student-Professor's apparently, as long as there is also a fully-qualified Professor, which is you."

"Wait, so that means I'm like your boss? I can make you get me coffee and shit? Fuck yes."

Xander just turned to Raine with a frosty look.

"Raine."

"Yes…"

"No."

"But you just said…"

"Fuck off."

Raine just shrugged and laughed before both men suddenly heard a knock at the door.

"We expecting anyone?" asked Raine.

"Nah, probably just another meeting we have to go to," replied Xander with a roll of his eyes as he popped out of his chair and walked over to the door.

The instant Harry finished knocking on the door, part of Harry regretted it, as he felt like a complete idiot just standing there.

'How am I supposed to explain this? "Hi, this magic disappearing room told me to come knock on your door when I asked it how to get stronger…so here I am, want to help me out?" Even in magical society I'm pretty sure people would start wondering if I should be put in St. Mungo's,' thought Harry as he nervously moved his fingers in and out of a fist, until the door swung open.

"Hey," started the bounty hunter Harry recognized as Xander, "you're the kid with the Patronus from yesterday. Harry Potter, yeah? Got a message for us or something?"

"Err…no…no message..." stuttered Harry.

"Great," replied Xander, his eyes boring into Harry, who just stood there, trying to find something to say. The silence grew unbearably awkward for Harry, though Xander's expression didn't change.

"Stop scaring some poor kid and invite him in or something will you," shouted Raine, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, yeah alright," shouted back Xander, while motioning to Harry with his hand to come in. Harry's body moved almost automatically, before he could consciously recognize what was really going on he was seated in a chair at a coffee table, Xander on one side of him sitting on a couch while Raine sat in a chair on the other.

"Harry Potter! I've got a little nephew who probably thinks more of you than he does of Merlin," said Raine happily. "I can only assume you want to ask something, so go ahead. No guarantees on a straight answer, especially from that one," Raine finished, pointing towards Xander, who rolled his eyes, but otherwise kept his face expressionless.

Harry gulped nervously. A completely impartial omniscient observer would easily say that Harry Potter had many talents, but social interaction, however, was not one of them.

"Strength and skill come from hours of work and dedication, nothing more or nothing less. Talent, instruction, and education are all secondary to that," Harry heard Xander say, almost emotionlessly. Harry jumped startled; Xander had just answered his question before he could even ask it.

"Oh ease off….not everyone in this world is a paranoid workaholic like you. He might have wanted to know about something else," Raine chastised Xander, though without any aggression.

"It still was going to be his question," replied Xander with a shrug, finally shifting his gaze away from Harry as he stood up and walked over to a trunk in the corner of the room.

Raine rounded on Harry. "Probably silly of me to even ask…but was it?"

"Err…yeah…sorry?" answered Harry tentatively after Raine slapped his forehead with his palm.

"No, no it's fine…it's just I hate it when he's right," said Raine motioning towards Xander. "He won't actually give me any shit about it, but it just adds to his weird silent prodigy aura. Annoying as hell if you ask me."

Harry could only nod dumbly. He had expected to be laughed out the door, but instead he was sitting here watching the bizarre social interaction between the two wizards. They were by far more approachable than he expected, well at least Raine was. Xander was bizarre on the other hand. Harry felt like he was being examined, like a science experiment under a microscope. Considering he couldn't be more than a year older than Harry, it was a rather disconcerting experience.

"Hey you, wouldn't mind if we asked you some questions, yeah?" said Raine, jostling Harry out of his silent thought.

"Sure, not sure what I can answer though," replied Harry trailing off.

"Oh we just have simple questions about magical Britain and Hogwarts, it'll help with our work and all," answered Raine with a casual wave of a hand.

The next twenty minutes or so Harry spent fielding questions from Raine on a wide variety subjects. Some were exceedingly simple, like explaining how the Hogwarts Houses worked. Others Harry was a bit embarrassed to have no idea about, like anything vaguely political Raine asked him. Raine even asked about his past years of Defense Against the Dark Arts. That brought the only reaction out of Xander, when he and Raine burst out laughing when they found out Gilderoy Lockhart.

"He doesn't even know that half of his Memory Charms failed, people were just too lazy to do anything about it, especially since he was only really famous in Britain," explained Raine.

After a few more questions, Harry politely excused himself, feeling relatively awkward just sitting their answering Raine's curiosities. Just as he left, however, Xander moved towards the corner of the room and tossed Harry two books that he fished out of a trunk.

"Should be more useful reading than whatever you've done the last few years here," said Xander as he opened the door to let Harry leave. Harry could only nod and stutter a thank you as he walked out.

* * *

"Lending books? Is the mysterious Xander actually trying to make friends?" Raine jokingly asked with a raised eyebrow just as Xander shut the door.

Xander just shot Raine a chilly glance.

"Fine, dumb question, I know. Still, you were looking at him like he was some new undiscovered magical creature. Creeped the kid out from what I could tell," said Raine, making himself more comfortable on Xander's couch.

Xander took out his small leather notebook before sitting down. "He has a part to play in whatever's coming," Xander finally responded to Raine after a moment.

"What? Stop being all weirdly philosophical," replied Raine.

"Between the fact that he was specifically used in the ritual that brought back Voldemort, and from what it looked like Voldemort took his blood, and that he was also targeted as a baby, it seems this Dark Lord's got an obsession with him. That and the scar of his clearly isn't just a physical remnant," Xander responded with shrug.

Raine went silent running his hands through his hair, his entire aura and vibe changing. Raine was a jovial, up-tempo sort of guy, but he didn't arrive to the peak of his profession without another side to him. No, Xander knew that Raine could be serious, calculating, and even vicious if the time called for it.

"He's got potential," Raine said quietly after nearly a minute of uninterrupted silence.

Xander nodded slowly. "His Patronus was good, solid, and didn't waver in front of the Dementors. Shows both magical power and aptitude."

Raine just nodded. "Especially impressive considering it seems like Hogwarts hasn't taught anything remotely useful in Defense class for awhile. Winning the Triwizard Tournament also gives him some solid experience in tough situations."

"Hopefully there are a few more like him around. The Aurors are going to need some young blood," said Xander.

"Agreed," Raine said. "By the way, what books did you give him?"

"Benjamin Solomon's _Compendium of Combat Tactics_," replied Xander.

"A classic, we should send complimentary copies to every Auror, considering how much money their Ministry is paying us," Raine said with a chuckle. "And the other one?"

Xander shifted himself for a moment. "Ibn Al-Thahabi's _Mind, Body, Soul, and Magic_"

Raine froze up. "You just handed a kid you just met an original, centuries old, priceless, Ibn Al-Thahabi manuscript, of which no more than like thirty exist in the world."

"I mean, I have another, and I gave him the crappier of my two copies. That one has a lot of stains you have to read around, blood and coffee if I had to guess," replied Xander with a shrug.

"Holy shit…maybe you actually were trying to make friends!" Raine exclaimed, only for Xander to roll his eyes.

* * *

"When's the last time there's been an announcement at a Sunday dinner," Seamus wondered aloud.

"Strange times mate, with You-Know-Who back and all," replied Dean as the entire table quieted down from their whispers. Harry locked onto Dumbledore, who was about to start speaking.

"As you know, with the return of Voldemort," began Dumbledore, ignoring the customary flinches, "and his clear attack on Hogwarts only two days past, we have darker and more dangerous times ahead of us. To ensure the safety and security of all students, some practical measures must be taken. I must unfortunately announce the suspension of all Hogsmeade weekends and Quidditich matches."

Dumbledore stopped for a moment to acknowledge the disappointed groans of the student body.

"Unfortunate, yes, but necessary. I'm sure you will all find ways to stay entertained, even in these dark times."

Harry could have sworn he saw Dumbledore turn and wink at the Weasley twins at that line, before the old Headmaster clapped his hands together.

"Fortunately, there is also some good news as well. A task force of Aurors has been assigned to help defend Hogwarts; if you see them around the grounds I ask that you treat them with respect and obey any direction they give you. On another note, Professor Umbridge will no longer be with us for the rest of the year, as the Ministry has recalled her for her…administrative skill. We have, however, found replacements for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position."

There was explosion of cheers over Umbridge's departure, but it quickly died down, as everyone was hanging on to Dumbledore's every word. Harry did not miss the use of 'replacements', the quickly put together the pieces just before Dumbledore made a quick motion with his hand. A moment later, a side door in the Great Hall popped open, and two semi-familiar figures walked through to an explosion of whispers.

"First I'd like to introduce Mr. Talbot, who will be teaching some sections of Defense class while he also consults for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Second, Mr. Xander will be joining us at Hogwarts in multiple capacities. He will be in charge of all defenses at Hogwarts, as well as a Defense student-professor. I hope you will graciously welcome them both."

Harry watched as the entire student body stared unabashedly at the pair of the wizards. There was polite applause, but for the most part students stood to get a better look as Raine and Xander walked towards the staff table. Harry glanced over at the Slytherins and was surprised at the reactions. He had expected revulsion or fear, at minimum dislike. No, from what Harry could tell the vast majority of Slytherins were looking at the two bounty hunters, particularly Xander, either uneasily or with a calculating, nearly neutral, gaze.

"He's going to be in Gryffindor for sure," Harry heard Ron say confidently, drawing his attention.

"Should he really even be sorted, I mean he is also supposed to be a professor?" replied Hermione tentatively. "Though I guess he is technically a student-professor."

Harry was only half listening as he watched Dumbledore and Xander in silent discussion as Dumbledore tried to hand Xander the tattered old Sorting Hat. Xander finally accepted it reluctantly with a shake of his head.

"Imagine how many points he can give us if he is both a professor and in Gryffindor," whispered Ron excitedly to Harry just as the pointed hat slid onto Xander's head. Harry watched Xander's facial expression, which remained completely blank until it turned into a look of pure fury.

"Merlin, that's scary," murmured Lavender Brown.

* * *

The Sorting Hat truly speaks to the adage 'Don't judge a book by it's cover." For a ratty ancient piece of headwear, the Sorting Hat had played a role in shaping Hogwarts, and British Magical Society, for centuries. Balances of power had shifted over the simple decision of sorting young children into one of four Hogwarts houses.

The magic of the Hat was another mystery, studied by nearly every Headmaster but still not fully understood. The Hat could analyze emotion and thoughts; clearly the inanimate object somehow conducted the very human magic of Legilimency, and furthermore was somehow self-aware. The fact that whatever spellwork used to create the Hat still worked was a testament to the Founders magical strength. So complicated, however, as the Hat's creation that in their journals many of Founders agreed they barely understood how it works, even if they created it. Supposedly, they had all nearly collapsed when the thing had actually started talking on it's own.

Now after centuries of sorting, the Hat had been through enough children who had a degree of Occlumency ability. It, however, had never been an issue, as the Hat's unconventional Legilimency had allowed it to slip deep into the psyches of young Hogwarts first years without them even noticing.

So the Hat went about it's normal business for all of two seconds before the miraculous self-preservation instincts that magic had given it kicked in and the Sorting Hat realized it had made a terrible, _terrible_ mistake.

For a brief moment, using its strange version of Legilimency, it slipped through the rather robust conventional Occlumency defenses and stumbled upon something that was locked away deep in this Xander's psyche. With a gentle probe it pushed through the lock only to be met with pain. Unimaginable pain. Emotional pain. Physical pain. Pain might not even be a strong enough word, but the Hat even wondered if there was a word to express the overwhelming wave it had felt.

Before it could even remove itself, however, the Hat felt another brand new sensation, probably close to the equivalent of what wizards feel when they Apparate. In a flash, the pain was gone, and the Hat sat in the center of a enormous circular marble room with domed roof, like being inside a superbly crafted Middle Eastern mosque.

"What in the Merlin's name…" shouted the Sorting Hat from within Xander's mindscape, though all in the Great Hall heard the words.

The circular room was lined along the outside edge with enormous wooden chests. Each of these chests were padlocked, covered in complex runes, and then placed in steel individual cages. This was a formidable accomplishment for any Occlumency practitioner, but it wasn't what had caused the Hat to exclaim.

In front of the boxes, blocking and defending them, were enormous marble statues of calm Buddhas, standing with their arms straight out and palms outward, the universal sign to halt. The Hat watched in fascination and trepidation as the Buddhas, each at least twenty feet tall, began moving and transforming. Their eyes began glowing a dazzling ruby red, and their stone muscles bulged and flexed. Fires erupted around their heads as they transformed into what could only be described as avatars of pure anger and fury. Suddenly they began speaking, filling the room with a deafening roar.

"LEAVE NOW!"

The Buddhas closed in on the Sorting Hat, before the Sorting Hat quickly decided it did value its existence, as much as a magical object could, anyway.

* * *

"BAD IDEA" bellowed the Sorting Hat as the entire Great Hall looked on. Harry watched as Xander ripped the hat off his head and head and threw it at a shell-shocked Professor McGonagall.

"I think I'll sort myself if you don't mind. Maybe do a trial run of all the Houses and see if I like any of them at all," said Xander aggressively, daring any of the faculty to challenge him, before spinning on his heel and marching straight to the Slytherin table, looking rather cranky.

* * *

Daphne sat in her usual perch in the common room, staring at the door, tuned out to the milling in the common room. Nearly the entire House was gathered, as House meetings had been called for their new classmate-professor-guard to make a few announcements.

There was palatable tension in the room. Those whose families were trying to stay neutral in the war were more curious than anything. Those of Death Eater families exuded a combination of extreme animosity combined with apprehension.

Daphne had no idea what to think about the two bounty hunters, particularly Xander. The older one, Raine Talbot, was probably going to be less involved in Hogwarts, so Daphne spent most of her time focusing on Xander. For someone who walked a tightrope all the time, not to mention was naturally curious, Xander presented an impossible mystery. Supposedly he was extremely powerful, yet Daphne thought he couldn't be more than a year or two older than her, if he was older at all. He seemed firmly entrenched against the Dark Lord, yet used spells outlawed in Britain or bristled against Dumbledore. What was confirmed about him was immeasurably small, however. No one even knew his last name, or if Xander was his first name at all.

'It's like throwing an unknown volatile ingredient into a potion,' Daphne thought silently as the door opened. 'No one knows what will happen.'

Daphne glanced left and right at Blaise and Tracey, who were both staring at the doorway, before focusing her own gaze. Xander walked in wearing a Muggle leather jacket and jeans, exuding a predatory aura. Daphne thought he still looked angry from whatever happened with the Sorting Hat, another mystery that would probably keep Daphne awake, and seemed to staring at Draco Malfoy, almost taunting him.

"Alright," shouted Xander, "Three things. First, if I tell you do something, listen if you value your life. If you die running around like an idiot not my fault."

"I'm sure that'll be more of a problem for the Gryffindors," breathed out Blaise silently, which elicited a quick snicker from Tracey.

"Second, as of now you all have a clean slate. I don't care what your background or about these stupid House rivalries. Apparently there are some stereotypes that go with them but that little shit Peter Pettigrew was a Gryffindor while Merlin himself was a Slytherin, so they clearly don't mean anything. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw have had their actors on both sides of this war. My job is to protect the school, and if any student becomes a threat, I will treat it as such. Understood?"

Silence greeted Xander, and he pressed on. Daphne wondered if he knew just how earth shaking his statement was.

"Third, over the course of this war I will kill people you know. They might be relatives or even parents. My advice, don't seek vengeance against me. If you do it will end extremely poorly for you."

Daphne watched as Xander looked around, calmly, confidently, and almost challengingly. She was amazed, at his demeanor until she realized just where it came from.

He didn't view a single one of them as a threat. A musing Daphne, entertained by how the children of Death Eaters now silently bristled, could only wonder whether it was overconfidence or simply a brutally accurate assessment.

* * *

Xander was cranky. He walked through Hogwarts' stone halls with thundering footsteps, a rarity for him, glaring at every portrait that perked up to look at him. The worst part, in his mind, was that his mood was caused by a piece of _headwear_. Somehow, Xander still didn't know through what means, that ancient hat had just floated through his frontline Occlumency defenses as if they hadn't even been there. The worst part is he had been expecting a mental probe, didn't take a genius to figure out how the Sorting Hat worked, but he had felt nothing. If the "shitty relic", as Xander had been calling it all day, hadn't poked around at _that_, then Xander wasn't even sure if he would have been able to find it and drive it out of his mind anyway. It had taken every ounce of self-restraint not to incinerate the thing; no matter priceless the British found it.

It had made the rest of his night that much more trying, as he had to go around speaking to all the students when he wanted nothing more than to spend an hour or two hexing something. He nearly had with the lanky red head kid in Gryffindor, who blew up during Xander's speech, something about how "only Slytherins are Death Eaters", but unfortunately stupidity wasn't a punishable offence. Reactions had been fairly similar across all four houses. Maybe that would have surprised some, but Xander knew better. Both sides in a war had their heroes, scholars, loyal followers, and cunning planners; this one would be no different.

Xander finally arrived at his destination, the Headmaster's office, and knocked on the door.

"Come in!"

Gruffly pushing his way in, Xander purposefully walked straight to a chair and took a seat.

"You called Headmaster?"

Albus Dumbledore wore robes of an odd fuschia color, and at first glance appeared to be in a rather pleasant mood. Xander, however, could tell the man was stressed. Stressed and ancient. Generally not a healthy combination.

"Yes, I just had a few things to cover as you and Mr. Talbot go into your first few days of teaching. While I have already supplied you with the Hogwarts Charter and other basic materials, here," with a wave of his hand Dumbledore caused a stack of papers to appear, "are some more thorough materials on Hogwarts rules and regulations, specifically on the role of the a student-professor. We haven't had one in nearly a hundred years so most of the faculty aren't completely aware of the exact functions of the unique positon."

Xander grabbed the pile of paperwork with a nod. "Thanks, I'll try to read through it in the next couple days, though I will admit I feel like I have a lot of work to do and this might be placed on a back cauldron."

"Ah yes, that I believe shifts nicely into the second point I wanted to discuss this evening, concerning your lesson plans. I assume you will be selecting a new text for your Defense classes? Mr. Talbot has already told me what books he wants to use for his 1st through 4th years."

"Yeah, definitely a different book. _Defensive Magical Theory_ isn't worth the paper it's printed on. Overall, I figure I'll use portions from a bunch of different texts, but having everyone own _Compendium of Combat Tactics_ by Benjamin Solomon will probably be good."

Albus Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow. "While an excellent selection, I would caution that the conventional O.W.L and N.E.W.T examinations focus very little on tactics or application and primarily on theory and spellwork. Those are the examinations that are the main focus of students."

Xander took a deep breath. "Look, I have never been to a school in my life. Hell, I've never even really had a teacher for more than a week or two before. So I only have a vague idea how this whole grading and teaching thing is supposed to work. My approach is pretty simple; I need to teach them to survive. That's something I know, so by the time I'm done with them I'm sure whatever exams or tests they have at the end of the year won't be a problem. But yeah, if you want to give me the O.W.L and N.E.W.T expectations or standards or whatever I'll try to use those too."

Dumbledore responded with a nod. "Of course, I will have a house-elf deliver it to your quarters. Also will you be keeping your personal quarters, or taking up residence in one of the Houses?" Dumbledore asked the question as casually as possible, but Xander felt it was loaded.

"I'll keep my quarters. I'm not here to make friends," Xander responded tersely, thinking of Raine's earlier teasing.

Albus Dumbledore was silent at Xander's answer. When the young wizard looked up, he immediately found the ancient man's eyes bearing down on him, and locked gazes. Xander couldn't get a complete read on the Headmaster's facial expression, but could see one thing: pity.

"Don't even think about it Dumbledore. I'm here to protect your school, teach some kids, and hunt some Dark wizards."

Albus shook his head slightly.

Xander got up with a start and walked towards the door, not waiting to be dismissed. Just before he walked out, however, he stopped, and turned back to Dumbledore.

"You've got enough things to worry about. I'm not one of them."

Albus Dumbledore watched sadly as Xander stormed from his office. Rarely had he felt such pity and sorrow for one so young, but it was impossible not to. To Albus Dumbledore, no young man should be living the lifestyle Xander was.

"I know you can't tell me anything, but could you maybe push me in the right direction?" asked Dumbledore to his empty office. One might think he was crazy, until another voice spoke up.

"There is nothing to say Dumbledore, other than it was utterly unimaginable," replied the Sorting Hat.

Dumbledore sighed. In another era, another time, he would probably expend more effort on the mystery of Xander. But, ironically, he had to take the young man's advice. There was a war to be fought, and Albus was once more determined to save as many as he could from its clutches.

Twirling his wand between his fingers, the greatest British wizard in at least a millennium strode over to massive volume, dark and dank, entitled _Rituals of Blood, Power, and Darkness_ and began researching once more, to find some weakness, some frailty, in the monster that was Tom Riddle.

* * *

**A/N: Review, and post your favorite fanfic story!**


	9. Red Deception

**A/N: Well, this took a lot longer to get out than I would have liked. Losing my laptop was part of the problem. Then rewriting this whole chapter at least twice was the other. I would come so close to finishing, before I realized I couldn't seem to finish it off properly, and went through rewriting it. Here it is though.**

* * *

**Chapter 9: Red Deception**

Harry stood alone in the center of a large circular sandbox, the current form of the Room of Requirement, surrounded by half a dozen hoops lying on the sand. Breathing deeply and rhythmically, Harry drew his wand and held it steady in front of him before bursting into action.

"_Terra Surgere_"

Harry barked the incantation out six times, targeting each hoop one by one, transfiguring the sand to rise like a narrow, cresting wave at each spot. He had done the same exercise dozens of times now, and his movements were now fluid where they had once been jerky.

After transfiguring the last pillar of sand, Harry paused a moment, before walking around to check his handiwork.

'Three are perfect, two aren't in the right place, and this one probably wouldn't stop a toddler,' Harry thought as he looked down at his fifth transfiguration, which barely rose to his knees. Kicking the pile of sand over in frustration, Harry turned and strode over to his book bag, which had been tossed in a corner, and picked up Benjamin Solomon's _Compendium of Combat Tactics_.

The tome had become his constant companion the last two weeks, ever since Xander had lent it to him. Once he had started reading it, he hadn't been able to put it down, reading it so obsessively in the Gryffindor Common Room of Hogwarts Library that some students thought that Hermione had rubbed off on him a little too much.

Flipping to an earmarked page, Harry read through what would be his last exercise of the day, practicing a new blasting curse that moved significantly more quickly than the standard _Reducto _or _Bombarda_. He had already spent more than three hours training, and it was soon going to be curfew.

'I'm still less than a tenth of the way through all the things I want to practice from this book,' thought Harry ruefully as he flipped through some other earmarked pages, where he had marked other useful exercises and spells.

'Then again in the last three weeks I might have learned more about how to defend myself than the rest of my years here put together' Harry thought.

* * *

_About 3 Weeks Earlier_

"What do you think he'll teach us first," Terry asked excitedly, as the fifth year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws stood outside the defense classroom.

"I bet we are going to learn a ton of wicked spells now," grinned Dean.

"Whatever it is," started Padma, almost giggling, "I'm sure it will be more productive than our last few months."

"And our O.W.L's hopefully won't be a total disaster," agreed Hermione as everyone descended into chatter about the coming DADA lesson.

The crescendo of noise was brought to a grinding halt, however, as the classroom door swung open, and Xander poked his head out of the door, silently motioning everyone inside.

Harry entered to see a perfectly non-descript classroom; the desks were arranged neat rows, while the walls were completely blank. Each desk had a quill and a piece of parchment on it. As everyone sat down, Xander spoke.

"Today, you will have a written exam for me to understand everyone abilities. Your questions," Xander waved his wand as he spoke, "are on the board. You will have one hour. Begin."

At that everyone, quickly sat down, grabbed the quill that was on his or her table, and watched as everyone's skin turned bright blue.

"Well, it seems everyone has already failed the first part of the test. Cursed objects can be anywhere…and they are generally not nearly as harmless as a Skin-Color Changing Charm. Your homework assignment, as well as 4th, 6th and 7th years, is to come to next class with at least two methods you would use to test for a cursed object," said Xander, standing at the front of the glass in dark robes.

"Now, begin your exam."

Harry shared a quick look with Hermione, Padma, and Terry, who were all grinning. Padma was right, this year's DADA class suddenly looked like an extremely productive use of time. Harry looked up at the first question, "List every method of shielding from a spell attack that you know of", and began writing. It ended up being one of the very few questions he had managed to answer with any sort of confidence.

* * *

Harry reflected back on what he had learned that last three weeks; a combination of spells and simply general knowledge about magic and tactics that he had never thought of, much of it self-taught.

That was the beauty of Xander's teaching methods at this point; it had forced Harry on his own wild research ventures. Xander clearly knew his subject, and was a decent teacher in one sense. He always asked questions that never had an answer from a book, and often instead of answering questions he would just shrug and mention a book the student could read if they wanted to know about the topic. For many, they weren't curious enough to go find out. But for Harry…

"To survive, I don't have much choice," muttered Harry.

In running a class, however, Harry could tell Xander had no idea what he was doing. Two weeks into class Xander had given a "Practical Quiz" and preceded to cause mass panic, and Hermione to burst into tears, when the highest grade he gave anyone was a Dreadful.

"How is 9 out of 11 correct a Dreadful? What did you have to do to pass?" Ron had shouted, motioning towards Harry and Hermione, who had been among only four or five in the class to miss less than five questions.

Harry remembered Xander's gaze as it bore into them, before Xander started laughing.

"Mr. Potter," Xander had said, " If you dodge or shield from nine Killing Curses, but two of them still hit you, what happens?"

His words had silenced the class rather quickly.

"In defense and battle, the only substitute for perfection is luck," murmured Harry, standing up and moving back towards the ring of sand, preparing to train once more.

"And up until this point, all I've relied on is luck, and I figure it's probably run-out, so I better have something else up my sleeve" thought Harry. Centering himself, he thought of his friends briefly, before casting, moving gracefully and murmuring silently, but with a decided conviction behind his casting.

Moments later, Harry broke into a smile, as for the first time; each hoop was filled with a perfectly transfigured sand shield.

* * *

"How's teaching going for you?," said Raine as he walked into Xander's quarters at Hogwarts.

"Sucks. Especially since I'm struggling not to just fail most of them. I can't wait for winter holidays to start in two weeks."

"Be nice, most of them just want to be normal people. " Raine's expression suddenly took a more serious turn as he stepped further into the room. "By the way, another Wizengamot member died last night."

"Which?"

"Pritchard. Apparently his house only had mediocre wards. Death Eaters blew them apart with Fiendfyre and were in and out before anyone could even get on the scene."

"Seems to be the same story everytime. People are too confident in their wards that have always worked," replied Xander.

"I'm willing to bet that changes after this one. This is the first Wizengamot member to die in his own home. Other one got it while coming home from dinner."

Raine sat down in a chair and looked at Xander for a second, who was lying on his bed reading through student papers.

"I don't mean to sound like a heartless bastard…"

"But at least Pritchard's death wasn't anything significant?" cut in Xander. "Don't worry, I'm thinking it too. He was a minor politician, and other than raise a lot of terror, it doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't feel like anything major has happened for awhile, at least since the first week after you turned in Pettigrew," said Raine.

Xander looked over with a raised eyebrow. "There's been probably like, 75 muggle deaths since then, along with at least 20 wizards murdered. Aurors have probably caught or killed around a dozen Death Eaters as well. I wouldn't call that nothing…"

"They've all been minor skirmishes though. For the immense power Dumbledore said Voldemort has, and the numbers we know he commands, he could be laying waste everywhere. Imagine if it was the same situation in Columbia…" trailed off Raine.

"There'd probably have been at least ten thousand dead," finished Xander.

"Exactly. Ever since the Godric's Hollow attack, the train massacre, and that other shit during the first week, it's all just been small raids and assassinating minor politicians."

Xander shrugged. "Historically, Dark wizards seem to come in two categories. Either they want to kill everyone, or rule the world. Voldemort seems to be the latter, so he probably isn't trying to kill off all of the citizens of his potential kingdom. Just the ones he doesn't like."

"Fair, but I still think it seems eerie that so little is happening. It won't stay like this forever."

* * *

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall's familiar voice rang out during breakfast. "The Headmaster wishes to see you in his office after breakfast."

Harry nodded before McGonagall turned away.

"What's Dumbledore want from you now?" asked Ron.

"Probably winter break plans. I'm going back to Grimmauld Place, but probably not on the Express," replied Harry.

"Hopefully you can come to the Burrow," Ron mentioned.

"Or you all can come to Grimmauld Place. Probably safer…" trailed off Harry.

"Mum's pretty obsessed with keeping us around the Burrow. I'm not worried though, apparently Charlie took some time off and has been working with Bill to put up some new wards," shrugged Ron.

"I know Bill's a Cursebreaker, but how familiar is he with putting up wards," asked Harry.

"Dunno. I figure if you can take them down you know something about putting them up. Charlie knows a little bit because they use them in the dragon pens or something," replied Ron.

"Hey, Hermione do you know the differences between becoming a Warder and a Cursebreaker," asked Harry.

"Cursebreaker is generally considered a harder profession, but the requirements are basically the same." answered Hermione, who was ignoring breakfast and reading through her notes.

"Alright," replied Harry, "by the way Hermione, what are you doing for the holidays?"

"Going skiing in Switzerland with my parents. Can we talk about this later? I really need to review," snapped back a frazzled Hermione.

* * *

"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore asked as Harry sat down, a question Harry had heard just about everytime he had been in the Headmaster's office.

"Thank you professor, but I'll pass," replied Harry.

Dumbledore hummed for a moment as he looked at Harry. "Very well. We have two pieces of business to cover today, Harry. Let us dismiss the shorter one at the beginning of the conversation. Now, Christmas holidays are coming up, and you will be spending them at Grimmauld Place. Sirius is quite excited, especially now that he is a free man and has been able to spruce the place up even further. I dare say it should be an…entertaining Christmas."

Harry just nodded with a smile, waiting for Dumbledore to continue.

"Due to security concerns, however, you will not be taking the Hogwarts Express from Hogsmeade with the rest of the students. You will instead Apparate from just outside the Hogwarts Wards, with an escort. Professor McGonagall will direct you with the specifics on the day of departure."

"Why can't I just use the Floo to Grimmauld Place? Seems like it would be easier," asked Harry.

"Floo travel, while in some ways more secure, is completely regulated by the Ministry. For the most part, the Ministry knows whenever a Floo is used, including destination. Voldemort has spies and contacts within the Ministry, and no doubt has access to the Floo Network logs. Although he probably expects you to be either at Grimmauld Place or Hogwarts, we would prefer not to do him any favors and narrow it down for him, even though you are as safe as one can expect at either place," replied Dumbledore cheerfully.

"Makes sense to me," shrugged Harry. "What's the second piece of business we have to cover, Professor?"

Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth and peered at Harry over his half-moon classes.

"The second piece of business is a little bit more complicated, Harry. I know I asked you this some months ago, but I must ask again, have you had any visions of Voldemort? Has your scar been hurting you?"

Harry thought for a moment, before shaking his head. "Not at all, sir. It hasn't hurt a single time."

Dumbledore stroked his beard for a moment while peering at Harry.

"Why sir? Is something wrong?"

Dumbledore quick shook his head. "Not at all, this is actually a wonderful, if unexpected development, and it may make what I'm about to ask possible unnecessary. Nevertheless, I believe caution should still be applied, particularly considering the added benefits," Dumbledore rambled.

"Added benefits of what?" burst Harry to a smiling Dumbledore.

"Occlumency," began Dumbledore, "a brand of magic you will begin learning over winter break."

"Err, sorry sir, but what is Occlumency? I've never heard of it," replied Harry.

"It is a form of mental magic that in some ways improves your mind, but more importantly protects it from its opposite, Legilimency, or the ability to delve into another's mind. It is rarely learned and somewhat unnecessary for the average witch and wizard. Fortunately for us Harry, you are not an average wizard, and unfortunately you posess enemies that are far beyond average."

Harry processed Dumbledore's words for a moment; paling at what he had heard.

"I can guess that Voldemort must be a mind-reader, then?" asked Harry grimly.

"A Legilimens is the proper term, because, as you will soon see, the mind is not nearly as simple as a book. But yes, Voldemort is quite proficient in both Mind Arts," replied Dumbledore gently.

Harry nodded, quickly understanding why such a skill might be useful, and so coveted by Voldemort.

"Who will be teaching me? You?" asked Harry.

"While I am also capable in both arts, for a myriad of reasons I will not be teaching you. Professor Snape is the very proficient in both Legilimency and Occlumency, and has agreed to teach you over the winter holidays and into next year," replied Dumbledore serenely.

"Snape, sir? Is there no one else? If you haven't noticed, he and I don't exactly get along," replied Harry uneasily. He didn't know what learning Occlumency would be like, but Snape anywhere near his mind was a less than desirable plan. Not to mention Snape's teaching style with Harry meant he had learned essentially nothing in potions for the last five years.

"Professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore rebuked, " is the most capable and qualified Occlumens we have to teach you. Very few know more than the basics within the Order, and the few others who do are not free during the winter holidays. Furthermore, I realize that the relationship between you and Professor Snape is not as amicable as it could be, and this may be an opportunity for the two of you to change that."

Harry bit back some of the nastier comments he wanted to make.

"If you say so sir."

"Excellent," replied Dumbledore, before he shifted his half-moon glasses with his hand. "Now I believe you have class shortly, so I won't keep you anymore. You will be told more details about your Occlumency training once you are at Grimmauld Place."

Harry headed out of the Headmaster's office, mind abuzz with what he had heard.

'Mind magic, I wonder how that works…I've never even heard of it," thought Harry as he walked down a stone corridor until he abruptly came to a full stop.

"No, maybe I have heard of it," he muttered excitedly. For the last several weeks Harry had been obessed with one of the books Xander had given him, Benjamin Solomon's recent work on defense tactics. He had quickly latched onto it as it had been much more approachable than the ancient, stained, intimidating tome Xander had also given him: the one titled _Mind, Body, Soul, and Magic_.

'Looks like its time to crack open that one…like hell I'm going into this training with Snape unprepared if I can help it," thought a determined Harry before rushing off to the Gryffindor Common Room.

* * *

"Mr. Scrimgeour," greeted Xander as he sat down in the man's office.

"Xander," nodded Rufus Scrimgeour from behind his desk, "how is Hogwarts?"

"Old, well-built, dark, and musty," replied Xander cheekily.

Rufus just shook his head. "For most of magical Britain, Hogwarts is legendary, and holds a special place in our hearts as where we discovered magic. Not so for you, it seems."

Xander shrugged. "It certainly is an incredible place in many respects, but that doesn't mean it isn't old, dark, and…."

"Musty, yes quite," finished Scrimegeour, pulling out a few papers. "Now onto business."

"What do you want me to do for you all over the holidays?" asked Xander.

"Never one to beat around the bush, eh? Since Hogwarts won't require your services, we will be making use of you as per our contract. You will have one main mission over the Winter Holidays, while also providing manpower to any missions that come up, should we ask for it," stated Scimgeour, "but first, a quick bit of paperwork."

Scrimgeour slid one piece of paper across the desk to Xander with a bit of playfulness in his eyes.

"Your official Apparition license. So you can stop receiving those citation warnings, and so Minister Bones can stop writing pardons for them," said Scrimgeour.

"Thank Merlin, I had been getting way too annoyed at all the automated owls," replied Xander.

"Yes, and I am pleased to inform you there won't be any extra paperwork for yourself, since you are already of age and thus don't need an under-seventeen exemption," replied Scrimgeour, observing Xander carefully as he spoke.

Xander's head cracked up like a whip, and the temperature of the room suddenly felt like it dropped several degrees.

"Excuse me, but I was unaware that I ever told the British Ministry my age," stated Xander, with steel behind his voice.

"You didn't," replied Scrimgeour, "but to become a Student-Professor at Hogwarts, you must be at least seventeen. The Hogwarts Charter would not have accepted you to that position if you weren't."

Xander's eyebrow twitched dangerously. "Tricky bastards," he muttered.

"Don't look at me," replied Scrimgeour, "We didn't really know either until Dumbledore informed us of that little tidbit a few weeks ago. Though I doubt anyone really thought you were younger than that…"

Xander just sighed. "Let's move on, shall we."

"Yes, as I said before, you have one main mission over the holidays, but keep yourself prepared for anything," said Scrimgeour.

"I'll do whatever is needed, especially considering how much your Ministry is paying me. I'm surprised Raine and I haven't been used more at this point, to be honest," said Xander.

Rufus nodded. "You are escorting Harry Potter to his secure location tomorrow, correct?"

"Yes, but after that I'm all yours."

"Good, after that report back to the Ministry and Minister Bones' office, where you will begin your assignment," said Scrimgeour while sliding a piece of paper across his desk to Xander. Xander gave it a quick lookover before responding with a raised eyebrow.

"Bodyguard duty for the Bones family?" asked Xander.

"Not what you expected?" asked Scrimgeour.

"No…though I think I understand why. Your hands are fairly tied, aren't they?" asked Xander.

Scrimgeour stiffened, before taking a deep breath and nodding. "There is more to it, I fear. As much as I would like to believe I have full control over this office, politics is a tricky thing. Certain…elements…have made it difficult for me to assign you to more aggressive posts…or take any aggressive action at all. These same elements, however, suggested this assignment might be appropriate for you."

Xander sat back in silence for a moment, pondering Scrimgeours words.

"Suspicious, but I can't seem to find a motive, past keeping me out of action," replied Xander.

Scrimgeour shook his head for a moment before opening a desk drawer and withdrawing a cigar, which he promptly lit.

"There are actual two different elements pushing for this, though I suspect for different reasons. One side is hesitant to have you on the attack considering your reputation, and how easily you dispatched Death Eaters like Greyback. Another is hesitant about your success as well, but for different reason. A young, foreign, bounty hunter grabbing successes could be as a sign of weakness for the Ministry, and too many members of our government have a little too much pride to stomach that. The former element I'm sure easily convinced the later for this post, as it means you, and those that have supported your employment, have everything to lose, and very little to gain from it."

Xander looked a Scrimgeour in confusion, before suddenly realizing the greater political and tactical game being played.

"Ahhhh, should I fail…"

"The Minister and her family will be dead, replaced by someone much less competent. If you survive, you will be immediately vilified and at best dismissed and exiled. All who supported your employment, which if I may be so bold are some of the staunchest opponents of Voldemort, will be crucified politically. A master stroke for the enemy side on multiple fronts, in effect," finished Scrimgeour.

"And an attack will come, this is all a set-up, and it will robust one, as the enemy is confident in success," supplied Xander.

Scrimgeour nodded. "We don't have as much intelligence from inside Voldemort's camp as we would like, but we do know something is being planned, and it is most likely a target on Minister Bones and her family."

Xander smiled.

"Well, I better not fail then," replied Xander, before standing and leaving Scrimgeour's office.

* * *

Harry sat inside Dumbledore's office, staring solely at his hands. Inside the trinket filled room occupied Dumbledore, Mad-Eye Moody, and Kingsley Shacklebolt, all standing in silence. The awkward tension was finally broken with the opening of the office door.

"Xander," Mad-Eye greeted with a nod, as Harry's latest Defense teach stepped into the room, clad in dark green cargo pants and a leather jacket.

"Hola, Mad-Eye," replied Xander, before turning to face Dumbledore. "Are we all set?"

"As soon as you read this, I believe we are," replied Dumbledore, handing a small piece of parchment to Xander, which Harry quickly realized must contain the address to Grimmauld Place.

"Fidelius Charm, huh? Will it work if I simply show this piece of paper to the Bones', to use this location as a fall-back point?" asked Xander.

"Yes, as it was written by the Secret Keeper, the note itself can serve to spread the Secret. Please destroy it promptly after, and while I enjoy the Bones family's company, I hope I do not see them this Christmas," said Dumbledore.

Harry watched Xander just nod.

"Well, let's get going then," started Moody, turning his good eye towards Harry. "Potter, invisibility clock on now, we will also place a Disillusionment Charm on you; our trickery earlier serves no purpose if someone sees you walking around Hogwarts now."

"Yes, sir," replied Harry quickly, unfolding his inherited invisibility cloak. Earlier in the day he had quickly bid farewell to Ron and Hermione, who had then taken the carriages to Hogsmeade with an Auror polyjuiced to look like Harry; part of the safety precautions that were being taken to move him to Grimmauld Place. Supposedly they had done the same thing with Susan Bones earlier, who had already been Apparated to her home the night before.

As soon as Kinglsey cast the Disillusionment Charm, sending a chill through Harry as the cool tingle washed over him, the three of them set out through Hogwarts in silence, taking the quickest route to the main gates.

"Eyes peeled as we cross the wards," muttered Moody. "That'll be the most dangerous moment."

"Nothing is going to happen, though," quickly replied Kingsley, which Harry realized was probably more for his benefit. "This is already plenty overkill, although I guess not compared to what Mad-Eye wanted to do."

"Constant Vigilance," responded Mad-Eye gruffly, as Kingsley rolled his eyes. "Now, let's go."

Moody quickly grabbed Harry's arm, and Apparated both of them away with a soft pop. Harry landed on his feet, steadied by Mad-Eye Moody. A wave of nausea passed over him as the welcome sight of Grimmauld Place appeared in front of him.

"Alright?" asked Moody quietly as they heard a single soft pop behind them, signaling the arrival of Kingsley and Xander.

"Yeah, though not the biggest fan of Apparition," replied Harry as the four of quickly moved across the street. Just as they reached the stairs leading to the front door of Grimmauld Place, Xander moved next to Moody.

"Mad-Eye, take a look at our seven o'clock."

Harry watched as Moody's magical eye quickly spun back into his head, before Moody swore quietly.

"Ahhh hell, good catch. Kingsley, get him inside. Xander, with me on extermination duty."

Kingsley didn't ask any question, and just pushed Harry into Grimmauld Place as Xander and Moody turned around. As soon as he entered the comfortably warm house, he was nipped in the ankles by a moderate size ball of fur.

"Owww, calm down Padfoot!" yelled Harry happily, realizing whom it was.

Sirius quickly changed out of his Animagus form as Harry took off his Invisibility Cloak and Kingsley canceled the Disillusionment Charm.

"Harry! I knew it was you! Invisibility can't hide the fact you're a stinky teenager!" yelled Sirius cheerily as he pulled Harry into a hug.

"Good to see you to, Sirius," replied Harry happily.

Sirius broke off the hug while looking at Kingsley, who was looking at the door, wand out.

"Something wrong, Kingsley?"

"Mad-Eye and Xander turned around at the door, apparently they spotted something,"

"What? What was it?"

"No idea, couldn't have been anything major if they are checking it out themselves, though."

Sirius and Kingsley's conversation was cut-off as Moody and Xander entered Grimmauld Place.

"What was it," quickly asked Sirius.

"Let's put it this way, foot-long asps aren't exactly common in England in the winter, are they?" replied Moody.

"Especially ones with that much magic on them," added Xander.

"What was it doing?" asked Kingsley.

"Scouting or surveillance, most likely. We will have to be more careful though," answered Moody.

The group went silent for a brief moment Harry watched Sirius approach Xander.

"We haven't met officially, but at this point I can safely say we are familiar with eachother. Sirius Black, at your service."

Xander shook Sirius' offered hand before responding.

"Xander. And so you were holed up here under the Fidelius Charm, eh? No wonder no one could find you. Well, I must admit, it's fun to meet the man I was once supposed to be hunting down."

"Well, I'm certainly glad you found Pettigrew, instead of me. I owe you my thanks for that," replied Sirius sincerely.

"Your welcome, though I have to say I was paid quite nicely for the whole thing, so don't worry about it. Anyways, I better be off, I've got to head over to the Bones'. Stay safe, and I hope the wards here are as good as everyone keeps telling me," replied Xander as he made to leave.

Sirius grinned. "Don't worry, I'm not particularly big fans of my ancestors, but one of the few things they were good for is spending a fortune warding this place. Good luck to you as well, and happy holidays."

"Aye," added Moody, "Good luck, let us know if you need help, and hopefully I'll see you next year."

"Hopefully Fate will be so kind," said Xander as he opened the door and left.

"Come on Harry, let's get you something to eat, you must be starved," said Sirius cheerily, putting his arm around this shoulder and guiding his godson to the kitchen.

Harry smiled a genuine, happy smile. It was good to be back at Grimmauld Place, somewhere that had ingrained itself in his heart over the summer, even if his brain was telling him there was something a bit…off…about that final exchange between Xander and Moody. Harry made a mental note to ask Sirius about it later, after some food, Occlumency study, and sleep.

* * *

"Potter! You lack focus! Have you even been practicing! I doubt it, as I have seen no progress," sneered Snape.

"I have been practicing," replied Harry gruffly, trying to control his anger at the potions master.

"So it is simply incompetence. I tried to tell Albus that your lack of intelligence would likely make it impossible for you to learn the subtle art of Occlumency."

Harry just glowered, keeping himself silent as if he opened his mouth, it would just be to tell Snape to piss off.

"Prepare yourself, clear your mind, and force me out. I am _barely _attacking, if you cannot prevent my attacks, you have no hope against the Dark Lord. Now. _Legilimens_!" cast Snape.

Harry desperately tried to clear his mind before the familiar stinging and throbbing began. Memories rose to the front of Harry's mind unbidden; images of breakfast that morning, classes, speaking with Sirius, and much more. Harry poured his effort into separating Snape's probe from his memories, using techniques from his reading of Xander's book to try and snap Snape's hold.

Finally, as a memory of Harry's arrival at Grimmauld Place over the summer popped up, the memories began to obscure. Harry redoubled his efforts, remembering the words in Ibn Al-Thahabi's _Mind, Body, Soul, and Magic, _that spoke of thickening the cloud until the memory was fully obscured, then pushing the attacker out. This technique, according to Ibn Al-Thahabi, was apparently just a stepping stone onto greater mind defenses, but it was all Harry had to work with right now, as Snape's instruction for the last two weeks had been useless. Repetitive orders of "clear your mind" and "empty yourself of emotion and thought" while telling Harry he was an idiot hadn't been particularly effective instruction.

Finally expelling Snape from his mind, Harry looked up at the Potions Master, panting.

"You eventually managed to expel me," began Snape haughtily, "but only after I was allowed to meander your mind at will. Your attempts to prevent me from entering your mind are pathetic, though to be expected, considering your lack of talent in apparently any subtle magical discipline."

"Well, maybe if you would give me any instruction on how to keep you out, I'd be able to manage something!" barked Harry.

"Manners Potter! I will not be spoken to like that! You, a mere mediocre school boy, are in no position to question my teaching skills!" yelled Snape.

"I think I can judge considering the only the only things you've told me, other than insulting me, is to "clear my mind" and "empty my emotions", without telling me fucking how!" shouted Harry.

"Clearly you lack the required brainpower to understand those simple directives, which unfortunate because I can't make my instructions any more clear than that, meaning this is truly a lost cause," Snape responded acidly.

"Well, why haven't you used gentle probes to show me what an intrusion into my mind feels like? Or explain to me any clearing techniques? All you have done is rifle through my mind and then expect results!" bellowed Harry, who by this point stopped trying to show a modicum of respect for Snape. His anger and rage had been building for two weeks, or in reality close to five years, and it was finally being unleashed.

"Silence! Do not speak as if you understand anything of Occlumency. Considering your failures thus far, that is too presumptuous, even for the son of James Potter!" shouted Snape.

"LEAVE MY DAD OUT OF THIS. HE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANY OF THIS!"

"Well considering you apparently inherited his brainpower, or lack thereof…it seems relevant in finding the source of your failure in Occlumency."

"SHUT UP," roared Harry, "FROM WHAT I'VE BLOODY READ, YOU JUST AREN'T TEACHING ME A FUCKING THING ABOUT OCCLUMENCY."

Snape suddenly narrowed his eyes. "And where, Potter, have you been reading about Occlumency? Texts on the subject are rare. Been sneaking in the Hogwarts Restricted Section, perhaps? Or maybe that know-it-all Granger gleaned a couple references from other books and suddenly fancies herself an expert."

In a rage, Harry flicked his wand out and summoned _Mind, Body, Soul, and Magic_ from the coffee table it sat on in the study they were working in.

"Bloody here, and no, I didn't take it out of the of the Hogwarts Restricted Section, it was lent to me. Now I'm damn well done with this, I'm out of here!"

"Potter! Get back here! Albus will hear of your insolence!" roared Snape.

"Fuck off. I'll be sure to show Professor Dumbledore the memories of the last two weeks, and most of our potions classes, if he asks," Harry replied as he stormed out of the study and straight for his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Laying flat on his bed, Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, willing his headache to go away. After a few moments, his efforts actually seemed to work, as the pinball madness that had occupied his brain slowed and eventually stopped.

"Well looks like I'm going to need a new Occlumency teacher," muttered Harry sitting up. He knew there had to be at least a few others within the Order that knew Occlumency, or at the least they could hire an outside tutor. Now that Sirius' name was cleared, Harry knew he was working actively on the outside world, re-establishing connections with old friends.

'Maybe he would know someone,' thought Harry as he twirled his wand. One thing was certain in Harry's mind; another Occlumency lesson with Snape would probably result in spells being cast.

Harry heard his door open, and looked up expecting Sirius, only to see a familiar bunch of auburn hair.

"Susan? What are you…?" began an incredulous Harry, before his question was cut off by a magically amplified voice that Harry recognized as Xander.

"FIND POTTER. IT'S A FAKE SUSAN BONES."

Harry only narrowly dodged the crimson red spell that sailed past him as he dived off the bed.

* * *

**A/N: Cliffhanger? Cliffhanger.**


End file.
